Heddle, or: End stage

warp strung taut- through bone white, polished loom;
            in the mirror 
there hangs an aged, fading, fraying cartoon,
                                                left long ago 
by bygone shadows she probably knew;
            forgotten now,
just weaving through a haze in her room;
                                                she remembers
nearly nothing- of the burnished heirloom;
            who brought it there,
whence from, why, and- by whom was it hewn?
                                                but endlessly
driven, shuttling weft threads of blood puce;
spools monochrome- oh, carelessly strewn;
                                                I must- finish!
singing- dry throated, desperate tune;
            keep your spirits
up- shh, shh; visions don't come to ruin;
                                                here you go, dear,
just say aaah, dear- yes, here comes the spoon-

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