subtext

and then you act or say something

unrehearsed which careens away

and it’s as if you can see the marble

roll and clack its way along a track

each turn and drop another station

to mark the final descent into hell

so you flail for a narrative strand

some line to prevent drowning

some line to pull it all together

like the last stitch sealing a wound

but the more you talk or act slashes

the seamless continuity of life’s fabric

and what once seemed an endless flow

falls about you in scraps and tatters