The Other Side


The Other Side

It was a miracle.

there was a small window that opened up.

windows like that open rarely and are

invariably small.

I ran towards the window and though it

was far away and small I ran for it then

dove through.

that’s how I got here, to the other side.

the window closed up quickly after my


it closed up like it was never there, a

seamless surface without a mark or

clue that it had ever opened at all.

nonetheless, like a wormhole or a vortex, it was

there, for a moment in time.

and that moment was all I needed to get

here, to the other side.

surreal poetry
Andrew Arnett
Andrew Arnett
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Andrew Arnett

Freelance writer living in Brooklyn, NY.

See all posts by Andrew Arnett