She folded the paper in a square,
neatly creased,
with each corner aligned.

Between the pressed fiber
are words formed
with her graphite pencil.

Each upward stroke and slanted loop
contains the leavings,
slags and powder,
pressed and fluidized
by the friction
of her fair hand.

Overlapped and crossing
lines connect, curve
and rise to embrace the next,

Yearning a lover’s symmetry.

Each ellipsis becomes
a more breathless desire
than the one before.

2 thoughts on “Balance

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