a line is the trajectory between two points
black without innocence or intent
measuring the span beginning and end
dividing the world into manageable halves
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this feeling predatory raw insists
on its place loudandlarge it sucks up all
the air no ingenuous black mark
connecting unseen points across the blank page
it thickens precariously consuming the negative
space that gives it shape its urgency
defies physics devours the white page
anomie no two points can contain
this live thing panther in its sheath
of night asserts its persistent black
