eye to the chink.

sitting back easily to

rest on her heels,

she sees the

single shaft of light.

it pulls

away

and towards

her.

not there to touch

with her hands –

just to touch,

just there.

Seen but unseen.

And it is

the silence

now, somehow,

she feels it

coiled

tightly

within her.

She feels it slithering

over &

under &

around

itself,

held

in a

tightly bound ball.

Heard but unheard.

There is some reason

for it,

she feels,

but it’s just beyond

her grasp,

it

scrabbles closely

into

darkened corners if

she dares approach.

And she is scrabbling

now,

held in some tight aired

box also.

Black.

eye to the chink.

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