dropped stitch

in the end, my hands feel like they have been covered in honey.
this was nothing to be transcended.
this was bare feet in the river and hands sticky with avoiding promises.

in the end, i tugged so hard on loose threads
the whole hat came undone.
maybe i am your dropped stitch,
or maybe you are mine,
but now all either of us have is a mess of yarn.

it's summer anyway.
i wouldn't have used any sort of knitted anything for a long time anyway.