I know... it's a tad wierd.
***
The finely huge holes filling October lace,
Handcrafted, vintage and forced.
They run in circles, hitting Grand Canyons
every so often. Tracing curvatures, perfection,
hands entwined and they’re wandering.
Fresh icing sugar dusted over stencils,
making the trails they follow ‘till the end,
but our Doc Martins, they stuff the pathways
and we plummet, plunge and dive through.
Sharp pull and it breaks all we have created.
This lacy delicate ribbon of ice-white willpower
has no lifeline of its own, yet we cling to the seams;
Hoping it’ll hold all our hassles for us.
Shivering in a breeze they cling to each other;
praying the strands won’t sway too much, or
that we won’t bend those threads we forged.
Patterns emerging: are they unadorned for you too?
Or perhaps vibrant as a stained glass window?
It’s all in the skills, you see. It’s all lacy delicate.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 2