Unless you look carefully, what you see of me is smooth and fully formed.
In this snap-shot tapestry, this pattern, this detail down deep,
each person is a trajectory pulled taut.
Their perfect intersection with
The weft of my words cuddled up close creates
Filling the spaces between them and me. I bind them all together.
Take it. Hold it. Turn it in your hands.
From which aspect do you see yourself?
I become the space to be filled. The connector connected.
Come closer. Closer still.
Do you see the dropped threads, the failure of shuttle-skipped plans?
Do you see the unevenness? the debris caught beneath?
Once knowing, can you forgive this tender mistake?