Talk me down from this if you think it is right
but I ask you, What about this?
We let the margins melt.
The edge of the paper we leave between you and I
that spreads like a binding between worlds and countries
We let these edges of untouched uncrossed
proprietary borders melt.
No more margins delineating the text of you and I.
Boundaries can shut out the Holy. Trapped inside such
an illusory separation I write to the edges.
I no longer accept this for myself.
I have gotten along too far to far for that
Acceptance feels any more like a trap.
I have been learning to melt away.