there’s something
about lines
random lines
straight lines
merging with
the rebellious ones
silently changing
and shaping
each other’s behaviors
like enemies
like friends
like people
like rivers
colliding
trespassing each other’s ways
with bold courage
there’s something
about lines
about the silence
that’s filled in their running lengths
in their turns
in their moods
in their seasons
in their winters
in their rains
their constant murmurs
as they move to
the other side of
this page…
there’s something
hidden in their
subtle dance
of expressive adamance…
