Studies
Sitting
Breathing
My abdomen rises and falls
Will he be late again?
Or will the new boundaries
Fall.
Fall to the ground, to be consumed
In the linoleum
The squeak of a chair
That rips open a chasm in
That linoleum floor
From underneath the
Gray, flecked linoleum
Comes a bubbling
Writhing
Mess
Not solid
Not liquid
Not air
Time passes but the setting is familiar
But it is also entirely different
This time chatter ensues
But it seems to be only for a select few
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