Blinks
its not behind me till i turn
straining eyes at sides
was that movement or just the eyeballs turn
peripheral visions of perforated what could be's
was that my breaths end
i'm sure mine was shorter
that shadow space behind me
of shape yet invented
is that the scrape of nail
in the hollow of my neck
now natures noises
need explained
heart won't stop its speech
am i here
just beyond its reach
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2021
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