I Walk Scribble the Line

What if we were renegade lines without end

wandering across the planes of existence 
vying for a genuine touch, one palpable connection among
scores of uniformed lines

And what if we were marks made to illustrate brevity
restricted to a finite period and space

rendering that which is temporary, ephemeral to
hunters of meaning 

We are lines, we are marks, we are scribbles that vary in
all the ways possible.  

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Find me where you know me to be.
-OH