Assume exhausted strings we’ll weave in unpredicted ways
May still hold thoughts together while steadily these sway
away from what might have been intended, if there ever was a plan –
can I stay the stretch that severs lest I tether strings in hand to
land anew another place in time, in time to see horizons new
moon filling hearts desires as blue seas meet blue skies.
[That’s not quite working right, but I am exhausted and can try and rework it another day…]