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Dec 2010
My fingers felt those synthetic polyester fibers
Small little worm like strings
Moving as my hands made waves
Moss amongst the water
Seaweed in the current

Ripping them up,
Unplanting them all
Tossing them to burn
Little strands of law and order
I sought deeper
Driven to my end

Repetition drove me
Pulling, tugging at those roots
Of your history
Tearing at the surface
Plastic woven particles
Frayed times gone past

I couldn’t cease, stop, leave
The beginning had begun
Closer I came
Yet knowing unnamed

In the movement of the motion
Those peaks fed my yearning
An underground history
To explore
Impossible to cease
I hungered for more

I held those fibers of truth
The dirt was ridden with a story,
Discovered, unearthed
My thirst fulfilled
Edited Take 2
Monica Rose
Written by
Monica Rose
917
   Odi and PK Wakefield
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