The Space In-Between


The space in-between
The wall
And the washing-machine
Is small.

I can measure it between
Thumb and forefinger
And yet
That is where I linger.

I crawled in
Not to fall.
A place
To be safe.

And small.

For I have two fine feet,
But am standing
Upon none.
My head is not of brick,
But nor is my conscience clean;
I,
I am the space
In between.

by Alashiya Gourdes

Published by Matt Henderson, on February 27th, 2009 at 12:16 pm. Filed under: Poetry Tags: No Comments

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