Threaded Alchemy

June 28, 2025|Poetry

I find it,
a quiet bump in my chest,
dense with something unsaid,
a knot woven of shadow and silence.

It is sticky.
Threaded.
Black strands tugging inward,
pulling me through the tunnels
of contraction and memory.

I follow them,
up the hollow of my throat,
down the slope of my cheek,
tender and trembling.

And then,
I call the light.

Golden.
Warm.
Knowing.

It does not fight the threads.
It infuses them,
turning the black into shimmer,
making even the ache
holy.

I feel the shift,
the inward pull softening
into outward flow.
What once gripped me
now glows through me.

Golden rivers spill
from the center of my being,
stretching out,
reaching far,
like I was never meant to hold it all alone.

And then,
a breath.

Deep.
Delicious.
Like the first one.

Not just air,
but space.
Not just inhale,
but home.