Sometimes my living-space
is too small.
A cramped lodging
and a longing
too coiled into its shadows
to hold much light.
Sometimes I am a ball of string
bundled into a knot of self.
Knots that once
bound me to a fabrication
but now hold nothing together
even more tightly.
At times like this
the Goddess mercifully
cuts me into ribbons of love.
She throws me out
until the tracery of soul
is everywhere
streaming through Her sky
as open as laughter.
