Until now,
the blank page has scared me...
...but it whispers....
I think.
.... it beckons me -
like a mirrored desire of some inner infinity...
..a longing to be filled......
with what?
with something greater than the sum of it's parts?
....its there, in my head, but the words don't flow...
....because i won't let them...
Until now...
There was a time when this naked paper was my closest friend,
when it mirrored more than everything,
and infinity was more exciting than tiresome....
crushed under cycling wheels, and tangled in the spirals...
...but to untangle the web is not the point....
its to fill in the spaces by riding its waves, and the water that fills its form....
the
becoming a channel..
a part of the flow, and centered in now