Knots
Who you are not seldom rises
beyond midnight’s
sum: one strand thrown over
another, looped through
and pulled taut, achieving
tension and a sour taste
at the back of your throat.
Everyone believes this
doesn’t bleed. I lock the
windows, draw the shades,
twist the cord. Even distracted,
nothing comes undone.
“Knots” first appeared here in June 2016.
O at the Edges 
Disquietingly good, Robert.
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Thank you, sir! Much appreciated.
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How carefully we guard our identity – even from ourselves.
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Especially from ourselves.
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Your words create many layers of meaning as usual. Who we are not hold us as tightly as its reverse. (K)
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Having been mistaken for who or what I am not quite often during my life, I can vouch for the truth of your statement. It’s a fascinating mix.
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