Sometimes all of us, at one point or the other, think about the people with us, without us and those others who disappeared for various reasons. What surprises the most are the people with us. If we step outside the taken for granted zone, these people are so basic to whom we perceive ourselves to be. As basic as fabric.
What holds us
The snake sloughs its skin, and you?
Grow, until the mesh begins to tear,
Muslin comes out the truth, dexterity is worn
By time, by bonfires of monologues
making sense of what you said.
Then when the day is done and birds look for flying nests.
Mountains erode. Nothing left but thread.