Shorelines, Hemlines

I started off treading on braided manila hemp-
I am now down to knotted wool

The lines you keep drawing begin closing in
and you keep at it til we blur
like a trail of once carved footprints
washed out by the ever coming tide

My heart comes and goes just as so,
each thump hanging on your every word;
sandcastle emotions

Often times,
I feel my everything dangling on a string of surgical thread
which you've been holding so very loosely between
your pockmarked index and delicate thumb

Please, skip out on the cruelty and let me fall;

quickly,


       cut
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        me
        |
        o
       


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