Dorzir Furi

I. threads are fraying

in the middle

II. the gaping hole

catches in the machine

III. pins and needles

scream and screech

IV. stitches mark the walls

torn like tissue paper

V. blood is weighty

holding down the pedal

VI. tormenting the machine

as bobbin spirals

VII. breathless, we wait for

the silken shout

VIII. and just like that

the lights go out.

by Mymona Bibi