Woe to the silky thread that binds us.
With a single word, it can be broken
and each end will fall to the ground,
never to meet again.
Woe to the warm sensation given our fingers
as they meet for the first time,
for each second they lose connection,
they grow as cold as a stone.
Woe to the distance we find between us.
Without a step closer, we remain alone,
never to see or touch
or connect again.
Woe to the stone heart that burns inside.
Without the warmth of your touch,
it grows colder still.

2 thoughts on “Connection

  1. Thank you, Sahm. I chose the title of the blog from a novel that I am currently writing, which is actually the sequel to my first novel, Rosalind. Poetry is such a strange thing; I can’t stop writing it, but at the same time, I don’t do it for any particular reason.

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