the frame and the flow

by mistersoto

amongst
patches of time
he might recall
when
all he wanted
was to flee
words
binding him
like ropes
confining him
like walls
doors
and spaces
shifted
over time
silent but seismic
layered
movements
deep underground
undetected
slowly
rearranging
the landscape
above ground
where once words
acted like keys
to lock and hold
their function
now reversed
windows and words
stared out from
with his hand
on the frame
trying
to stem their
flow

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