the ball

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emotional necrophilia

winding it up tight

hand the wheel

to the red head

in the purple undies

striking scorpion pose

with the ease

of a baby’s full bellied smile


spit up


pass out

let the kitten play with the string

the ball will loosen

on it’s own


space between

crossing lines

space to breathe

space to fall into

space in which to hide out

until the tightening grip

of the mad

cable knit sweater knitter

(only for summer)

forgets the plan

and moves on to another ball of yarn

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