Tuesday 28 August 2007

Centrifuge

At this opening
a door.
No watches,
music,
voice or order,
no one,
just spinning.

Out here,
on this thin edge,
I’m nearly out but dizzy.
Still...
and wondering,
is this far enough?

Sliding down
the guard rail
carefully,
leaning out,
you could fly off into space
forever.

Reaching down
into the dust
you index your circumference;
a mark of disbelief.

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