It’s a really loud silence,
thick and oppressive.
I could feel the
s p a c e
that was living between us.
We are infinite be-ings,
we stitch ourselves up with seams -
seams we test, tear at and stretch.
The moment you see someone’s seam exposed
the raw innards of an unhealed, unattended wound
gushing and gurgling -
you spot a rough twinkle in their eye
like a firework darting over a dark lake,
illuminating the contours
of what was there all along.
It’s a deafening silence,
thin and expressive.
There was no space living between us.
xx
RissaJean
100% agree that we are made of "seams we test, tear at, and stretch" as humans. It's actually a really interesting metaphor, one I hadn't heard before. My interpretation of the seams is that it is more than just physical or emotional boundaries that are delineated, almost potential as well. Seams clearly mark the edges of something that is sewn, and as humans, it seems our natural inclination to move beyond any boundary we see is to chase more. So maybe when we are testing and tearing our seams, sometimes we are probing our boundaries to see how far we could go. Wow! What a thought-provoking poem! Beautifully written too; thanks for sharing!
I love seeing someone’s seams…it reminds me we’re all so much of the same 🤍