the world keeps going round

fear lodged in my body like a knife
the second the second line appeared.

ever since it has see-sawed
between a mortal wound and a tiny splinter.

it has stayed close —
a thread, connecting her to me to him.

sometimes i tug on it to see what happens,
but nothing does.

he is still here and she still isn’t,
and the world keeps going round and round.