Wednesday, January 28, 2015

prose poem 5 | threshold

The threshold waits, unbarred. It is hidden only within the periphery of your vision. Its liminality seeps into your every action though you scarcely notice. It is neither quite here nor there, and neither are you.

It waits, uncrossed and blocked only by your fears. It waits for your sideways step. You are liminal and subtly diverted by this. You wait for the threshold to slide across you, but you will not step towards it. Diffuse and undefined and untried, you wait, and you waste.

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