Strung 

A thin wire twists and turns

Somewhere in the gut 

Somewhere in the air

Things don’t grow like this

The longing kills eventually 

The want of firm ground

Stability only needed without edges

Highwire act by the untrained

Accident begging for release

Weightlessness, gravity means nothing

Direction meaningless somehow

Still I twist and turn

If I fell who notices

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9 thoughts on “Strung 

      1. The alarming part for the cactus is they generally don’t grow as tall as the fence and there were no incision marks like someone got drunk and said ‘hey I’ll grab a cactus and do this with it’. Someone’s world will always look better with a single eye. 😉

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