as things move.

there is an inherent calm and focus in knitting, a warm utilitarianism. one long furled string twisting into repeated patterns of itself to be the same but with unified purpose. it won't be perfect and i love it more for that; it'll wrap around me all the same.

no that's not dirt there. it looks so much like it though, doesn't it?

i had difficulty trying to define hunger in imagery. i didn't have an emaciated child readily available for a literal interpretation. so i chose this:

well not this exact image, but this concept.  i suppose i'll be steeped in sentimentality the rest of my days.  but not so secretly anymore.  i've always enjoyed tissue paper, so fragile, to wrap precious items.

don't go to the well, there's no water there.