deepundergroundpoetry.com

KNOT

the tangle was a knot
she couldn't untie
though in her dreams
her fingers worked
until they ached
and she prayed
the clock would stop --
not stop
as that might mean death
but freeze
for a just a minute
while she worked
the knot
but the seconds
rolled on
as though with conviction

relentless,

determined
to do her in
Written by javalini
Published
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