by Cyn Kitchen

died with Grandma
who never showed
any of us how
to spin a thread
her fairy tale magic
impossible to convey
in stained
scriptics, because
no one knows what she meant.

I have ruined
whole sacks of sugar
syrup to hard crack
spun through cauldrons
boiling, bubbling
in search of that thread
& still I end up here.

you left us & what
you left us is gone
which means
whatever you took
with you
might not have ever
existed. not really.
except when it did.