loose threads

We faced each other
 with weaponized fingers meant to pluck
and unravel everything we had stitched for our survival.
So we picked and pulled and untangled; 
 the loose threads fell away.
And then your heart followed close,
 lost in the flotsam, awash in our blood.
I stood on a high bridge and watched you struggle;
 a witch king with her sacrifice.
I could’ve plucked you from the surface
 had I known at the time
  that I still held the final threads that bound us together

-rjm