Apron Strings

Wait for dusk to cut
when the AM waves travel furthest

fibers snarl with child-spins                             cording to
knot
I can hear Michigan over lakes and cold curves

I work in some fast frequency                    re-pinning angel hair
the color of crystal or spider webs

tied into antennae and finish peeling back hours
for the expression of watts                              pasta drain

silver dials turn to light-headed fluorescence
sink filling of water                              veil wince

wipe disruption on bib                      bend at waist to kiss
tuck sin into pockets                                and curtsy.