• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 03
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Crossing the line

My hyperopic eyes make the closest things seem blurred.
It’s the distance that looks clear and well-formed. The distance
that is easier to imagine than the closeness is to interpret. Always
has been for me. Now, here, is muddled and overwhelming
without the space that detachment allows and time ensures. Distance
is where I’m going and never reaching, never managing to cross
that line.