spread out as cotton threads
knotted
&
i will not mention the word

liking rags
i move on
with differing
music
the trial by glass

required for mending always
yesterday she explained to sew
the four holes in synchronicity
tight
on linen
yesterday the words came easily with labels

i think my work,
my soul
is in
my chest.

they did not know she had many, neither did she. just collected one item at a time, cared fully for         each one of them.                                                                                                          catalogued

a darker green,
jasmine climbs the window,
storms brew, we are older now.

moving on i feel it was a flashback
to the girl who wished for quiet and
can remember  in detail