Six Strings

So tightly wound, these five strings of mine,
They quiver with unwavering tension.
Sealed end to end with bite, wit, and fear,
Reverberating, endlessly.

But a sixth string drifts, an untied end,
A gossamer grasping gently for a spider.
I seek a stitch, a bow, a flame that ignites me.
Darling, can you tie my string?

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.