poem 5: fibre
I was pinned, would shake
like a lesser dog from certainty
that time would pull me apart
until you took my hand
in yours and combed
beaches,
my hair,
our carpet,
blocked drains,
clouds,
train cushions,
a passing dog,
jumpers,
books,
calendars,
scarves,
and stories,
and knitted us together.
tapestry
comes to mean us,
my shield from unravelling,
one of your many works
of art.