Poem 20160414

an inverse
as the space
between us two
has increased
we become less
less like friends, less like ourselves

a direct
as the time
has decreased
of all our
the words themselves grow shorter

like a bird
it’s an event
when you move
my aim falters
you take flight
you disappear
and my field of view empties


the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #32
(5) Words: | SPACE | FRIEND | EVENT | MOVE | AIM |

(This week it’s a Whitney; hat tip to Doug at Elusive Trope for introducing me to this form.)

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