01:19 - a Stitch In Time

Unpacking means to put away, I’m closing doors: forgetting, And so that case expires, sits, retires on the floor. A forgotten mess of fabrics lies beneath the surface letting A flood of hand-spun memories drag me, drown me all the more. Although I only see you now through misted screens and pictures, A thousand crystal remnants tumble out when my eyes close. A week long thread of subtleties lies woven in the mixture, A second’s worth of secrecy lies dormant on my clothes. Cotton, denim, zips and bows remember where your hands were placed, A shadow which I cannot bring myself to wash away. Unravelling doesn’t bother me; I know your stitch can’t be erased, And so, my case remains untouched, as always, just for one more day.