There's More to the Width of a Line

Grit on my skin. Flowing,
softer with the light and
cut
down the middle. There's more
to the width of a line / bisected
the fullness of an atom not merely divided.
I am burst into light. Evading and evaporating.
Shadows contour the ground,
Harsh edges form and beg to burst as well,
to bathe every surface in that vastness of spirit.
but,
it requires
compression.
The distinction between forces
and the energy to move between them.
The will is.
Like a shadow, the evidence.
Catching, in a gasp,
as the pendulum of self slides through that razor-thin line.