
today i ponder
the space between
a tick and a tock,
clock or otherwise slit
sliced ever so thin, deep
amidst today and it's very own
yesterday. after all
if drawn along a line, each
a mere dot paired by a dash.
what transpires within,
when one's drawn in, cold;
exhaled,
moistened and warmed?
today i ponder
~noxalio~

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