This time is the tiniest drop. Not swelling or throbbing. Just the crest of the wave. In and out the fields of vision. The only distractions may lie. Outside of circle or sphere. A figurative death. Billowing smoke and escalator tread.
With pinpoint precision we wait. Plotting out the movement. Or negotiating silence. Deliberately washing our hands. The lonely call to action. Random intervals and inconvenient. A figurative mass. Of the drowning and the surface.
