One day she’ll just get it.

She will get up and grab it

as if it hadn’t always been hanging thousands of feet above her.

She’ll get that the distance between her and what she wanted was

a mirror image;

and the speck in the reflection above,

made up of millions of forgotten pulsing particles,

must act.

She must act

She must act

She must act.

For every piece of her hums,

restlessly pulling her upward

to meet a surface where

she is realized.

 

One thought on “the speck

  1. What if “it” was gotten all along?
    Like subconsciously singing a distant song
    Placed deep in the mind..though at your disposal
    But far too deep to be disposed of

    Lessons learned, though not asked to be taught
    As hearts are caged and not asking to be caught
    What is really important in the grand scheme of things?
    Through the clouds do you try to see the beams?

    Like

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