Skeleton Woman Stitching Love

For decades I had spun the yarn in hopes someday she would incarn. Gown bejeweled, with eyes of gold, a figure trim with movements bold. She looked among the threads I had thrown and tossed them on the cobblestones. Then plucking each strand with measured flare, she caste her stitches in the air. She bound my dreams within each stitch securing each with a weaver’s hitch. She stitched my heart with tender care to hold the strength, she had ensnared.