Deeply embroiled in abstract structure,
Architecting spires and catacombs,
Machinery to fill the expanse of empty state,
Tuned to aching backs beneath the mantel of creation.

Full of family time,
I leave these deeper footprints,
These markings in the shores of time,
For glory and for holiness,
My brothers and sisters make playful shadows,
Dancing mad on softest shores,
They shade the track that must be struck,
With deeper footprints,
These markings in the shores of time.

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.