a line breaks from a poem,
worded in the waning wonder of
a vanquished want,
runs through my palm,
resting against the hollow of
my ache — controlled —
measuring ounces of comfort,
harbouring
my nights in an oblivion-obvious pause…
…picking up the pace,
keeping on.
.
© Anmol Arora 2018
For dVerse Quadrille
Image source (The Pause of Unknowingness by Dan Crossley)
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