Pensively drawn lines
mark the room
like a giant notepad,
horizontally fixed,
and waiting for 
words to be broken
over top.
Graffiti would be interesting
or some hand-painted
much like a signature.
It needs something to break up
these long, dead waves.
I want to wake to it
and sleep to it,
this message
that will sit above
these plastered strings.
I want to see splashes of
organized color
over these thin, dark streaks
placed precisely six inches apart.


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