A mooring perhaps, and held..
Entangled, knotted like rope
Gypsy lines on your palm find mine
We grip
Fingers as roots seek water
Cracking concrete
Destabilising buildings
Knuckle and joints weave until whole
Just this now
Just one spidery smooth lock remains
As blocks of tower topple
And new worlds grow.
No Tall Stories 
January 23rd, 2015 at 9:47 pm
I have nominated you for the Versatile Blogger Award because I love reading your blog so much. Here’s a link: https://hannahreadfilms.wordpress.com/2015/01/23/1569/
September 24th, 2015 at 10:34 am
Definitely deserves an award…