Frayed Path Crossings

Frayed shoe lace tips

A spider crosses my path

I think of film clips that fall to the ground, pile at my feet, buried

It’s not yet morning, but muted voices keep me company as I wait

Moments slips through the holes of my net, no matter how many times captured

Drifting, watching, letting go, I sigh

Hidden behind wooden fences, a safe distance away

But I can’t escape the feeling that all eyes are upon me

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