Breadcrumb #227


Stop. Now focus in
on the sense that rolls
from your lips.

Right there, between
those bands of static
interference, there,

between sips of
white wine sangria
and a broken stream
of words.

Now rewind. Look,
there’s your form
bathed in grey, pointing
at the clear and obvious

Now take it frame
by frame until you
see that shadowy
trace that drifts from
my muscles.

See how it rises
and falls into the grainy
space between us?

The story we saw
but never spoke.

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