Like Pulling On Silk Thread
A poem on unravelling trust
It was like pulling on thread, trying to take it out of a seam,
A beautiful seam, joining together delicate silk,
In order to re-sew with it and repair the torn fabric,
Only to pull too hard and break the thread.
It was like tying a bow and snapping the ribbon
And the folds of the bow unravelling splendidly,
Like putting away a glass and accidentally dropping it,
Seeing it fracture into large, refracting shards on the ground,
Into a million tiny specs of glass dust,
Iridescent and fine as silk.
It was like reaching for the stars and pulling a muscle,
Reaching too far,
Overstepping unspoken boundaries.
It was like he didn’t care for seams
Or ribbon or glass or stars,
More so that he didn’t care for broken things-
For frayed silk or undone bows or sand
Or healing human beings.
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