That Spot....

this is a blank slate.
when i write some words on it
and you begin to read each
something really happens
though you do not know it
because you are too busy with
the reading of the word

either a part of me dies or lives
it depends on where you stop
and when

tomorrow i shall write again
you must learn where you stopped and
when.

it is that precise moment
that you make me begin to write again.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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