Loose Threads

By Kyrin Sturdivant

And the web could never apologize

for the way you weave your lies,

like baskets holding guilt

too heavy for their weight

on dates past due.

To leave truth waiting

on a spindle never used.

I like to view you through the veil,

because somehow the stitches couldn’t close

my open wound, left unzipped,

tied to your every word.

I lose myself in loose threads that lead to you.

The knot in my throat made of questions,

you fold over a seam, seeming seamless

in your eyes.

I tied myself to you without sewing so much of a doubt,

in binding truth to the words you feed me.

One foot on the pedal is all it takes

to match our pieces and form a pair.

If we are garments meant to fade,

I hope to dry with you in the wind.

But I won’t stretch myself out to lie with you

if lies are all you hope to mend.

— Published in Fulcrum Journal, 2023 —