Categorical Imperative

now, the seconds pass

slowly. almost like they

don’t. but, here we are


alone, separated only

by four tables designed

to seat ten. forty people apart,


invisible. this space, silence

occupying every inch.

i watch you, for what else

is there to do? right now,


the world is dead. the world is us, this.

your eyes sweeping over me, sweeping

the distance, now we are without. walls,

falling, worlds are colliding now.

but then, you look away-


and this is my chance. only, the moment

slips away, dead now, swift. gone.

you look at me, and I act as if

nothing really happened.



— Miss, No food and drinks inside the library.


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