when i think about you,
i think of the first time we met.
i think i heard your voice murmur in my ears
since i was born, raspy through the speaker.
immediately, i put my arms around you.
i remember thinking how small you were.
how fragile and papery, like butterfly wings,
deceptive. the flutter was razor sharp.
i watched how you could cut the hands that held you so deep,
the red staining them. just as god intended.
i think i have something just like you.
cocoons in cocoons, in piano wire.
spun by those before us, me from you and you
from them and they from those before.