Published on

Cross-stitch and Burning Man

Authors

The Poem

blue string
threading in and out,
becomes a river
as memories seep
from front
to back

... front...
i sing old songs
—back
so they won't be
forgotten.

... front...
i sing new songs
—back
the old songs begot

... front...
tight rope and
riding crops
—back
bruised skin but
sparkling heart

... front...
bruised skin,
more than one heart
—back
they twinkle in
our light

... front...
the effigy burns away
—back
shimmering heat;
lights like day

... front...
i honor
the old gods
—back
through me,
they carry
the flame

... and stop.

bundled away,
set aside
like clothes i'm not
feeling—
the blue string is
water,
and my well
never runs dry;
art through my soul—
front
and back again.

Commentary

I wrote this for an ex. I actually had known her from years prior. We were both polyamorous (I've since broken contact with her, and last I heard she wanted to be monogamous with an old flame of hers), and I had accidentally stumbled upon her online dating profile while browsing. I wrote this based on various details on her profile as a sort of gift.

Oh, and this poem is part of a series that I explain here.