i write these first words
treading lightly
my fingers have been on the keys
for a few minutes
waiting
writing is walking on a line
a rope in a circus your
words on display for spectators
these are my words
if they could catch me
or hold me up
would they?

YOU ARE READING
A N T H E M
Poetrywe are the broken//we are the corrupt//we are the shallow #54 poetry (2/23)