the one who survived
Remember to keep following her. She is the child-- the one who survived.
it is with her where you will learn about breath.
it is in her company that you will welcome in death.
it is through her light that you will be birthed.
She will not guide you onto the path for it is not one to be met by a child alone.
With her tangled hair,
she will teach your gentle and fastidious fingers the ancient practice of weaving.
fingers begin to move so quickly now
more like fibers now
your field a blanket now
and it holds you so tight that your bones won't dismantle, as you and your hands
spin and unwind
spin and unwind
spin and unwind
unwind
unwind
over and over and over
until-- you're left. once more,
the fiber with which the web
is being spun.
But for how much longer will you build and break down?
your fingers? the thread? the stitch? the whole?
And if it's with your hands you unwind and your mind
that you spin, will your new web be ready
by the time you destroy
the last?
for now just begin