it spirals across
inked in colored marker.
sometimes it's stacked
other times i can feel the cold tiles it rests upon crawl on my skin.
there are manila sheets, thin in length but thick to hold. iron restraints keep it constrained as the light of the projector shines down in the minimal darkness of the classroom.
no one knows it's purpose
we could assume but there would be no answers.
instead,
i just stare down at the spiraled sheets and wonder.
prompt; pick an object in the room and try to describe it without making it obvious or using the actual words.
outcome; placement and word changes
YOU ARE READING
help
Poetryearth → purgatory → heaven // hell ↓ illusion my poem compilation from the past year ♤ lowercase intended ♤
