stringing my thoughts together,
i tug them one by one onto the line;
pull at them and prick them and stab them,
sort them into tight, neat rows.

hang them up on the christmas tree.
wind the lights, arrange the ornaments
and sprinkle tinsel in just the right places.

one by one on the line, my thoughts
hide and tremble in the bristly coverage,
behind the sparkles and behind the stars,

until i can barely see them anymore.