You

I turn around and see your face in the words on my page. The ink twists until your name forms, wet upon the page.

How long will I be stuck, caught by your web, spinning my words from your silk? When will I step free to write without your hand upon mine, directing the lines?

When will I be able to turn to you and smile. Look you in the eye. With the threads you have spun on the floor around my feet?

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13 thoughts on “You

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