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 Feb 2012 Sarina Siegel
Christine
Walking in place,
each step, an embrace:
my toes, to the floor,
then heel; once more.
Not forward nor back,
extension, contract:
changing position,
persistent, the stiction.
The weight of the floor,
a shiftable platform
below me, it mocks;
consistent, the clock.
Keeping time, keeping beat,
never complete.
Inside me, the race,
quicker than pace.
Inside me, the surge,
more to discourage:
pumping, through, and again
like steps, now and then.
Forward, though same,
it is here i remain.

— The End —