I used to think it exquisite.
Some beautiful power
weaving expert, impeccable knots.
But precision does not
come so
easily
undone.
No. Only a mirage
of strength.
Tenuous,
fragile,
w a v e r i n g
at the slightest threat of indifference.
Find an anchor, then.
Wind it tightly
aroundandaround,
overandunder itself.
Let us grab hold
til our fingers go numb.
It cannot go slack.
Don't slip.
Please
don't let go
before I find my way
back
to you.