GOLDEN LOOM
threads fall across the structure
weave on by
precious memories sewn
into the indents of my mind
the loom holds tight
through the battle of time
but breaks after a single thread
is removed from the wood
and stands alone
without the others
it is nothing
but taking the crystalline needle
it is sewn back in
into the golden loom
and reuniting with the others
in unison.
(-1.30.08)
-lilxerica
after the rain.
beauty is left.
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