Puppetry

We wove our world into a web,

a blanket covering our bed,

and inside us, threads ran through,

just as veins and sinews do.

We strung together everything;

our past and future and in-between,

and took and wound it 'round a spool,

with singularity somehow dual.

Each hour spent in my room,

more yarn was added to our loom,

and if we ever had a glitch,

we closed the snag with one more stitch.

There are times, we'll both admit,

that there were skeins we didn't knit,

and all the strands that we forgot,

snaked themselves into a knot.

Oh what a matted mess we found,

when thinking all was tightly bound.

I try to understand, but it's a blur,

how you began to feel like Gulliver.

Now as you start to rip the seams,

and wake up from all our dreams,

there's a string on a finger,

that says you must remember.

You move as if you're unattached,

with her, appearing better matched.

Though Gulliver returns to travel,

our memory will not unravel.

I sewed my rips and tears,

and the rest, only time repairs.

I keep in mind, though heart mangled,

That you will never be untangled.