That Dot

Did you miss me?

I am that dot.

The one your eye keeps finding
even when you’re trying
not to look.

There are dots everywhere.

And then there’s me.

A little off.

Not where I belong.
Not part of the plan.

Maybe that’s why
you keep noticing me.

Maybe that’s why
you keep coming back.

I am not the pattern.

I am the flaw
your eye keeps returning to.

The thing you tell yourself
doesn’t matter.

The thing you think about
anyway.

I am that dot.

The one you keep trying
to look away from.

The one that stays
after you do.