A single piece of paper.
Blue on one side, white on the other.
Its name is Impossible.
I make space on my desk -
There is barely room on my desk.
I prepare myself and my paper,
“Nothing is really impossible.”
The instruction book is filled to the edges.
I glance from one page to the other as
I seize my paper by the corner.
I fold corner to corner,
I need a bigger desk.
Unnecessary things get moved from one side to the other.
Back to the paper -
I'm making new edges.
“So far so good. This doesn’t seem impossible...”
“Maybe this is impossible.”
I'm looking for non-existent corners,
I'm trying to collapse these edges,
I'm realizing just how long I've been sitting at my desk.
Two hours have been dedicated to this one piece of paper.
“Maybe I should try the other…
No! I started with this, and I will finish with no other”
“But this really is impossible.”
“I've manhandled this paper
and mangled the corners.”
“But I do have a big enough desk
Because my paper has smaller edges?”
My fingers squeeze the edges.
This is something like no other.
I flatten it against my desk.
I know why this was called Impossible...
There are over thirty corners
On this one piece of paper.
I sat at my desk and prioritized the paper over every other.
I moved the edges and created corners and did the Impossible.