The spiders have all left. On Mondays, I unravel them. One at a time, I pull the black sleeves from their tops and bottoms and expose their ends. Then, I pull. I laugh when the thread runs free.
Cohesion is always a facade.
Then, I sew. My stitches overlap one another now. I'm focusing on texture, on levels. There are no more gaps. The pulpy matter of my heart no longer even shows.