Laura Eliason

Written Work and Studies

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I am the one who untangles knots.

 

With fastidious fingers,

And patience aplenty,

I slowly tease them free.

 

I turn one tiny twist after another,

With the edge of a fine fingernail,

Until I grasp the one that gives,

That separates this solid snarl

By a solitary snippet.

 

And I approach anew,

Yearning for the next yarn that yields.

 

With

 

each

 

measured

 

movement,

 

I needle nonchalantly into the gnarl.

 

With

 

each

 

enduring

 

instant,

 

Still I pull and press and ponder.

 

Until that sweet surrender,

When no tension tarries

To hold the tangle in your tongue together

And it comes

Undone

 

And all that is left is a languid line in my hand.

 

Written TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2011

Laura Eliason