midway impressions

the paper thin insignia
reminds me
of how the ink felt
along the tips of which it meant.

you overestimate me,
with a ruler
a metre
too far you ran
to catch me.

i was destined for the floor;

you never had a notion for fate.

but it does for me,
so can’t you see?
perhaps we’re better off with gravity.

i want you to see,
a better side of me
not bound for the ground

tethered to reality.

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