"Oh what a poet I will flay myself into."
— Sylvia Plath

To Sew.

You catch the corner of my eye
and I do think; I hope —
As our threads spin
in this deep Dark,
that I am caught
in thine.

Acclimatised to dance alone;
Though not by choice; by Fate.
My silent wish —
our threads, those Norns,
would someday
intertwine.

Tue, March 2nd 2010

  1. appleofeden posted this