I have some string.
At some point, I cut up this string into smaller strings,
although my amount of string is infinite.
Some of this string turns into twine, it
weaves with other pieces of string and ties itself,
well, ties itself to whatever I tell it too.
Some string is taught, rigid, strong,
unbreakable, and steady. This forest-green string travels
to the forest, to a house, to rooms, to a home. Most of this
string stays tied to the same place, well it used to.
Now, a piece knots in a hollow, another in a valley, a third to
a spa, and a fourth to Arizona. This is my favorite string.
My second favorite string is all blue. Blue is the color of choice.
These choice strings are conscious, tight, and permanent. There
are four of these strings. The oldest, wow,
the oldest mixes with the dark green, but lurches
to Virginia. The most unbreakable string, and though
muddied, has no cuts, frays, nor has it ever needed mending.
My shortest string is pure blue, and lives 10 blocks away in an attic.
A scary math class, music, and pizza created this one.
My longest string stretches to Asia, it too formed with music.
The newest string is tenuous, but strong. It lives in a hardware store with two dogs.
I don't know what to say about my other string.
I envision it daily, its clear, unclaimed structure, and through it,
peruse for paths across which to stretch my string, and
tie a double knot at a new location.
Sometimes, I find a newness, a novelty, but rarely
does its string survive an expiration date. That's ok,
if string were flying everywhere, I couldn't handle it.
But I still have this wavering string. It has the strong
color, like it's already claimed. Green and blue weaving into each other,
but also, also
a hint of blue-violet that is minimal, but prevalent.
I'm not sure what to do with this string, I'm not sure where to tie it,
if it is to be tied, or if it would even hold in place with super glue.
I'm ok with that. String should be dealt with carefully,
because when it unties, something is lost forever.
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