Place your hand on mine. Untie your mind. Let your bloated brain balloon and float away.
Float away into the day.
Wet the end of the thread, thimble upon your index. Feed the line through its eye, draw it from the other side. Pull the strand to satisfy the need to compose this entire naïve globe.
Tears and seams all turn to one.
Set the needle on its path, bobbing up and down and past. Tears and seams all turn to one with every stitch and each spool spun
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