Slip knot. Slip not.

Which thread unravels the knot?

In an instant, we came undone. Word over word, breath over breath, hastily, as if the sand would run out of the hourglass all together.

Perhaps it did. The shock of electricity, melted glass. I shook afterwards, held my face up towards the rain. Waited to put one foot in front of the other. Watched the sun break over the horizon, golden yellow under the dark clouds, all the days to come lit up at once. Golden yellow and sky blue. Sky blue and then golden yellow. 

And so it was. An undoing. 

One foot in front of the other, we're clumsy, both of us, I know this too soon. One foot in front of the other. His step, my step. Forward, forward, backward, side, forward, backward, side, side, turnabout, backward, forward, turnabout, side, side. Connected and tangled. Knotted. The words splayed out around us, wedged between us, pieces of a puzzle. The sand next to the hourglass. I can't find the beginning or the end. I am quiet, with so much more to say. Not until the knots unravel. Not until we're standing face to face. Connected, without the tangle.

A gentle tug, these knots will fall away. Slip knot. Slip not. 

Which thread unravels?

Always, words. All this, words. 

Which undo, unravel.