Needle and Thread
I have a ribbon collection that could use
a garden of chrysanthemums and lilacs
that you could tend to:
I promise that I will not fall apart
under the weight of you.
when I think of your teeth, I think
of your words spilling cold
down my back all over again: white heat.
and you think that not knowing my eyes will allow you
distance, that is false.
you will cut me free,
water me every day,
because that is how these things go.
a needle and thread, a prick of the finger.
—By Zoe Jones