Poetry/Prose

Stringing Single

Sure, I’ll be a bead on your string
If you don’t mind me doing the same

To You

Our voices carry like birdsongs
Over the phone, through the halls
Sometimes behind me
Or when we’re bold
Face to face

What to say
When all is feeling

What to do
That’s not revealing

Maybe your string is mine
And we’d be side by side
No place to hide

We think we hold the beads
Imaginations running wild

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