You told us to tie the knot and we have.
Twisting over and under and pulled tight,
you couldn’t tell us or tear us apart.
If you did I swear nothing would be there.
Twice as many ends you couldn’t handle.
Say you tried to place a finger on us.
We’d be your speed-bump sliding to and fro.
Call us a core. Missing a point we are
Not a bundle of nerves waiting to slip.
Not a navel projecting the Outside.
Not a noose loosening into the fold.
Yes, we’re obtuse seeming inside and out.
Impossible to see once in-between
where new beings become knots unknowing.
Our bulge along the way, a moment bound.
This dark night of the solo isn’t ours.
Our grave dance tingles in tributaries.
Hold tight, Dearest, we’re about to depart!