Knots Between The Pearls
A strand of pearls not tied with knots;
we’re held together — just a thread.
At times like sticky spider silk
and other times a weakened string
that aches and breaks and throws our pearls across the floor.
The clatter scatter marble-mess
of all the dirt and hurts we pretty-wrapped.
Without the knots between the pearls, we
come undone. On hands and knees
we hunt and gather what’s to be restrung —
each dressed-up sphere was once a naked tear
accumulated once again,
this time to tie ourselves and beads in line
to knot together “could-have should-have” shrugs
and form a diff’rent rope of pearls …or noose
and in this space of rest — the screws between the pearls,
we plot a dream more fluff than faith before the cobweb breaks.
No doubt, we’re dilettantes in love-bite-arts of making-up.
Knots may keep us stranded
but the nots will keep us apart.
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