Thursday, September 26, 2013


There they are again,
The first few stitches
Of my battlefront
Threatening to come undone
To unravel my defense
Until it falls away
And I'm forced to start again,
To pick up knitting needles off the ground,
Like swords
Or wands
And out of thin air,
And invisible wool
Tie the first few stitches
The first of too many
But somehow, still never enough
I haven't met the last few stitches
They always run away from me
Uncertain of the unpredictable.

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