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I find myself pulling one thread out of my sweater
Somehow to understand it better
How such a linear line can hold on so much information
Of animals, plants or some sort of chemical formation
Ancient history of twisted yarn
Yet, I am facing a sweater filled with darns
Attempting to hold on to your question
Of how stories and yarns follow a succession
I guess it all starts with beginnings and ends
With central axis and interwoven bends
It’s never about one single plot
Vertical lines always get caught
In complex systems of horizontal threads
As in life, we tell stories like collective heads
I’m trying to gather as much as I can
Building some sort of floor plan
Of others life’s and their stories
Like a photo album of inventories
Next time you ask me to share one story
I will focus on the memories of a body
Of mothers and their peculiar sounds
And the lines that draw common grounds
