Thread lines,
Walk slowly down my legs,
Dividing and conquering the real estate into two,
Rolling round creases and hurdling over crinkles,
Diving beneath the surface and peaking out for air to give wobbling stitches,
A little loose end lounges lazily by the edge,
Poking out and bending like the appendages of a jesters hat,
Perhaps it waits to be grasped and yanked?
... and for unhappy unravellings to upset the ordered lines.