{Personal Website and gateway to other Websites for Sean McVey.}
My Needle and My Thread
Two figures stand in a faint light
As though actors on a stage, filled
With darkness. They stand facing
Each other, almost embracing one
Another. Their gaze falls upon the
Other’s chest and their hands are
Placed about the same. Upon further
Inspection, it is apparent their actions.
The man is sewing threads into the
Woman’s chest and she, the same.
They wince not and perform their
Task simultaneously. Hundreds of
Thousands of threads can be seen.
They form a bond that is quite opaque
And solid. The threads seem to be
Of significant meaning to them both.
The threads, made of some unearthly
Substance, are very thin and only the
Most delicate of seamstresses may use
Them successfully. These threads are
Sewn only through careful work and
Time. They can never be fully broken
Once in place and together, they are
As strong as any bond known to man.
My Needle and My Thread
Two figures stand in a faint light
As though actors on a stage, filled
With darkness. They stand facing
Each other, almost embracing one
Another. Their gaze falls upon the
Other’s chest and their hands are
Placed about the same. Upon further
Inspection, it is apparent their actions.
The man is sewing threads into the
Woman’s chest and she, the same.
They wince not and perform their
Task simultaneously. Hundreds of
Thousands of threads can be seen.
They form a bond that is quite opaque
And solid. The threads seem to be
Of significant meaning to them both.
The threads, made of some unearthly
Substance, are very thin and only the
Most delicate of seamstresses may use
Them successfully. These threads are
Sewn only through careful work and
Time. They can never be fully broken
Once in place and together, they are
As strong as any bond known to man.
© J. Sean McVey