Emily O'Neill

IF YOU PAUSE IT JUST RIGHT

skin continues
uninterrupted. We won’t
see the moment halved.
We won’t have
to read our own palms
instead of watching.
Here in the middle—the life-
line, bisected. Cut to
another cutaway. Too soon.
You blinked, missed
the worst of it. If you look
through parted fingers
you can see the fist
but not what’s in it.
Do you know
how scenes come
to a point? Frames
shifting faster so
you’re watching
both sides of a story
until the room heals
into one picture.
Let’s freeze it
there. Shadow
still just that.
No killer.
Not yet.

 

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