Its thinnest ribbon of light, gleaming only ever so slightly.
Slips through the subconscious, existing no more than the leaves that fall on an Autumn day;
Animated only by external disturbances. Influences, perhaps.
As if the stars
disappear behind,
are engulphed in,
The city sky.
Waveforms
overtake,
overwhelm,
Their targeted direction.
That wide eyed shock.
Deer in the headlights; freezing in the moment for far too long;
When in truth, the world was still moving.
Just as time reliably dictates.
If you push and I pull, we do nothing?
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