criss-crossing lines of
communication sever
words and sentences
and meaning, stopping
feeling, thought, desire,
there is something
wrong inside my brain,
I can feel it expanding
and contracting, pushing
and pulling wants and words
around like so many grains
of sand at the bottom of
the ocean, each of them
holding meaning that I
will never grasp as they
move so swiftly by my
outstretched fingers,
clenching but never catching
ideas, streams, sparks
floating on the current
slowly and steadily rising
to the surface, gasping
for air, creating life on a
page that quickly disintegrates
in the motion of the waves,
still trying to convey some kind
of message to every reader
that there is treasure in
each line that rises to the top

— GB

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