This life will be a poem (2)

For Amor (Daniyaal), my hero.

2.

We stretch only to the frayed edges,
the feathery band of
warp without weft,
the unravelling of the night bringing

uncovered

cool morning:
a gap in the fabric & an end
to that piece of weaving​​​​​​​​

in
and
out,

a chance to look at the pattern
and decide what to choose
for the next beginning.​​​​​​