crocheting

weaving words like wicker crotchety job

every single one

grabbing them all

with a neat thread worth

millions

or at least a gold bar

when I finally resume to my own seat

comfortable enough

to try to break through

obstacles attacking from

the outside world

and from my head

used to this kind

of arrangements

from which it’s not

easy to get out

alone

but every time I try it works

like a tank ready to fight

any sort of

my own space

yet if I don’t let go

its pricks like roses leave numerous scars

where there is no cure or see

this veil in an incomprehensible guise that pierces through it

without remorse

even if it’s the only new thing I’ve got

*

December 2022

***

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