Tangled Hobby Poem by Iva Didova

So come sit here to weave that thread.
Why don't you weave me and you instead?

Go one with two,
leave the third one in the middle.

All these dents and twirls,
are too complicated for me...

My nightmare collides with your tangled riddle.

One drop,
two drops,
Three.

All this divinity covers me.

In a few hours I'll awake
I can see it now,
can you feel me shake?

Then slide under your microscope,
too small to notice.
Now my brain spins from
the inscence of this hypocritical dope
and help me because I choke!