The tension that trips her up
That muscle contraction
Slow and unnoticeable
Concentration of the brows
Certain that she had missed something

Tripping on tuft of rug
Slipping into some parallel state of work
Finding the time, somehow
For coffee and pastry
With an old mentor

Tension tugs her to sleep
finally
The only known method
To catch a reflection
Once glimpsed in a store window
Caught again, in the unknowable space
of dream, where the line of tension
Is a violin string, a horse's hair
The line between here and there