writing

Unfinished

This unfinished thread, left dangling.

One day, we’ll pick it up again,

Pull it tight, pull each other closer,

But for now it floats in the breeze,

Gentle and light, knowing it’s okay.

It is just within our reach for when,

But we wait for when the other is ready.

Sometimes things just float along,

And we just glide along with them

Waiting for the winds to change,

Sometimes growing restless,

Not knowing why it is this way,

But we wait for a time to pull again.

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