9.25.2009

bubble fringe

living on the fringe
on that edge
the razor's edge
not on the shiny side
but on the dull.

ripping without cutting through
pinching without slicing true
puncturing the skin without piercing into...

glancing off the surface tension
biting pinching
without drawing
blood.

like a boy in a bubble
running round in place
never moves an inch but
he always runs out of space...

pushing the plastic envelope
thinking outside his rounded box
invisible fingers hold him back
his feet locked to the floor
coldly he stares at the walls
and the walls stare back
no words exchanged
nothing more than cruel intentions.

living on the fringe
on that edge
the razor's edge
not on the shiny side
but on the dull.

that man in his bubble
still running round in place
never moving an inch but
always running out of space...

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