I am a thread
Looking for a needle.
Searching for an open and steely eye
Through which I can pass.
Together, perhaps we
May perform a mending,
Renewing fabric worn or seams undone
By dancing entwined through the night.
In a single spit-stiffened moment,
I will wriggle through
Your inner space
And find myself
On the other side.
Still intact, whole.
Connected to the unending spool of my Self
Forever seeking your eye.
By Deborah Hawkins
Writer and also the creator of the wonderful site No Small Thing
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