weaver’s nightmare

by Megan Amero i heard you on the phonethe other night, whispering wordsi used to dream of, held close to my chestlike the promise of spring, your voicecutting through the staticslicing my nebulous mind into ribbonswith the cold steel of certainty. i want you. imagination made load-bearing,substance inspires far more terrorthan the airy wisps of thought i spininto a tapestry of my own design.life’s patterns … Continue reading weaver’s nightmare