“I’m unraveling,” she said.
“Where’s the thread?” he asked. “I’ll pull it.”
Pull a thread and this dense fear
spins out and away into gales
like bits of flying paper
like cyclones
like breathlessness.
Then my life floats down
in a clean white line:
a declaration
a direction.
Exhaled, unraveled.
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 2:23 PM UTC
“I’m unraveling,” she said.
“Where’s the thread?” he asked. “I’ll pull it.”
Pull a thread and this dense fear
spins out and away into gales
like bits of flying paper
like cyclones
like breathlessness.
Then my life floats down
in a clean white line:
a declaration
a direction.
Exhaled, unraveled.
©Leslie Crowley Srajek 2010