It was a bit difficult at first, fitting the thread through the eye of a needle. But once through, we tied a knot. Secured. And wove a pattern.
The face was becoming visible. Little X’s and rows, a chin, then a nose, ears. We didn’t get to the eyes though, or the hair. We were haphazard in our pattern: diagonal, up, down, right to left, and left to right. Hasty. Consumed.
We didn’t even complete the lips.
And somewhere along the line, a thread came loose. And there went my chin, then nose, then ears. Me. Unraveled.
The white slip of fabric: a question mark now. And there you are, needle in hand, ready to poke holes in me once more.
Author’s note:
This was written two days after my fiancé abruptly broke off our engagement, but then wanted to come back less than twelve hours later. Inspired by that moment, of a love coming undone and what it feels like to unravel, and by cross-stitching, a new hobby of mine.
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