a meditation on thread,

mediation of red, i dream

of you.



clearly your clothes remain

the same, worn, washed,

pressed.



your ideas come different, you

talk of immersion,

and security, nothing was

further from my mind.





the moon came early

a different window.



this does not mean i

have time,

i will be sewing.



i have made notes and numbers,

pinned it to the wall.



sbm.