Pen ink fractures page

       breaking Monday morning

in the dawn

 with little hairline splinters

dandruff dusted

              in false starts and

                          cheap ink streaks

             and hesitation,


                                lightly disguised

         as heavy cogitation

and premeditation

            empathising with page textures

instead of live people.

        Fractures on page

                 and fractures in people

                        fractures in time

          splicing spider webs –

                                                 silk lines –

                           snapping somehow

                      as sentences strain to hold


yet strength is still spun

        in the quivering tension

                                                 unseen between fragments.


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