Story a day: 6.20.16

I did not make this thing, yet here I kneel before it.

Once, perhaps, I may have stood. Now, I know my rightful place.

I touch my chest, feeling the hollowness there and wondering how my body does not collapse upon itself. As I look up at the tapestry, I know. Though it tore its colors from the threads of my breath and the strings of my heart’s beating, it sprawls in glorious resplendence against the wall. It took from me and made more; we live in spite of each other.

I can only kneel and bow my head.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s