r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

short fiction  short poetry  short commentary  short..uh..art
 

 

     
  Synapse

Laurence Loeb
 

 


We talk, ride
in a tumbrel of time, 

move toward
each other,

meet, touch
too soon,

unripe, lost
before becoming.

Chance links us.

 

 

 


 

 

 

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