Private calculus
A square. Right there.
It moves closer.
Wonderment:
Why square? Why there?
Why me?
Changing shape now.
Every second counts.
No one else will see.
Why me?
The square is lost —
not there,
but once it was:
a square,
drifting toward me.
Now only lines,
perhaps.
A square-cloud
visible only to me
dissolves into nothing.
Why me?
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