block by block
color by color
knot by knot
vintage wool
is looped and knotted.
Now
fingering, savoring
the last little bit
wandering, exploring
the wreckage of 52nd
looking for daddy's little dolly
that was the wonder-;
the burden of you.
Now.
finished, yet unfinished
heart formed, yet unformed
too early, too late
I unravel the last double
crochet
tie off the umbilical:
no need to stay.
.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem