The Rent
(a rewrite)
We were woven one, the finest friends
Alike we were in warp and weft.
Her doom laid dormant our mutual loom
And I, the bobbin, all bereft.
One spring, the binding thread broke loose
The strain too much, I saw her break
Our tear-stained folds,
bought at great ache.
Some rifts we hide from those too close
Damage too deep to bare
The dread unravelling
lurking there.
Our friendship is a tapestry
More richly viewed as years go by
But something gives deep inside
I think of her, and the rent is nigh.
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