The entanglement of lines.

Entangled between lines of space
but focused on
the point in the distance,
one found oneself given a lifeline
watching the midline
all the while dangling
on a fishing line
just above the breadline,
there was the dateline.
But keeping today’s deadline
became tomorrow’s skyline
where the point in focus
was the light of a dream.
Life was a fine line
drawn on time’s line
only to flatline;
in the mirror one saw
the receding hairline.

We are all just points
connected by lines,
those lines of reason
all stream lined.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

life is a dotted line so often...nothing seems to connect...and then people can't connect either.

j.