in obsidian

stars crossed

once hidden in obsidian

teetering on the brink

of the universe’s skirt

clasping onto the fabric

for dear life

in the dance of rotation

I

once buried in the thread

shivering in my carbon dust

flickering inside scratchy crinoline

began crawling along the hemline

stitch by stitch

following the dark silhouette

to the drape

where the softness of being

hugged my weight

and I found you

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