the needle that started it all

years later,
I at last find the needle
that started it all:
a small, thin, silver thing
asleep in the folds of my skin,
carrying my fingerprint
and all my intricate doings

slowly, I unwind what
I have done to myself
as I tear through the threads
of my shadows, releasing
the trapped breaths,
unleashing them like
butterflies and wistful sighs

until finally

one hundred and eleven
exhalations later
my own true person
reveals itself
and spins itself
into light


One comment

  1. slpmartin · February 16, 2013

    Sounds like such a beautiful sight.

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