what comes before us
sends multiple strands
through the warp and weft
of the time allotted us
I try to trim away the false
bits frayed through retelling
but the whole cloth’s tattered
rent beyond redemption
what matters what holds import
after years of listening to stories
is the silence to hear myself
my story told by me to me
free of other’s impositions
and the lies of the dead
(April 6, 2015)
subtext 