331/365: Raw Fibres

the courtyard 3

I didn't love,
so I did not move.
I hovered in a corner
and worried the edge of a blanket with my fingers.
I rubbed it down until the flannel was gone
and every naked fiber
was a record needle over my nerves.
Those were the days before I knew
that there was more of what I could not see
than what I could,
working itself in.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com