Whether the line hooked or snagged
or was tied with care
doesn't matter.
It stretched taut, sang
like a wire over distance,
payed out to the pull
of whatever it was
that swam so strong,
dove so deep,
away, always away,
never a circle or return
till the reel was empty,
and was not a reel,
but an unravelled heart,
its bright thread kinked 
with the ghost of every stitch,
fluttering like a thin flag,
like a lost vein, 
into the huge world.

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