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kimberkitBianca's fingers thread back and forth, weaving her strange and twisted knots. Life is like that, I think, while I watch her hold bright and shining threads, tying piece after new piece.
Sometimes I want the simplicity of being an object; then I would have a purpose. I would be precious to someone. I would be held. I would be blessed by the person who made me, because we each leave our marks on things that we create. Instead, I ask her to please put away her art project, because we have other things to do.
Sometimes I want the simplicity of being an object; then I would have a purpose. I would be precious to someone. I would be held. I would be blessed by the person who made me, because we each leave our marks on things that we create. Instead, I ask her to please put away her art project, because we have other things to do.
