there's a moment before the colours set on the canvas,
before you press "Send"
before he leans in for the kiss
before the alarm chimes you out of sleep
before she steps off the cliff
The letter might still be left on the desk, unsent
The hand held back by the elbow,
the word kept between the larynx pulse
Yet something slips through
looks around,
sets course for the new horizons,
for unexplored lands
Not fateful, neither momentous
Simply changed
there's perhaps a flight in that dive
or love of your life in that breadth
perhaps the best email you sent
or the masterpiece you create
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