Silver Thread

Silver Thread

By Ellen Michelle Beard

There is a silver thread

that extends from my chest

fluoresced

glowing wispy ghost-possessed

wafting in the windblown east by the wind in the west

As soft as a breath

caressed

the silver thread

stretches over the stormy sea distressed

billowing and snapping through tide and tempest

lapped by each wave’s crest

Each tug reverberates back in my chest

with tension compressed

It does not brittle or crack under the bleaching beating sun

But the heat of the thread is felt in my chest

quietly sharp like lemon zest

Every snag and billow echoes in my chest

Unaddressed

The silver thread shaken by the wind and waves

still stretches on hard-pressed

guided by the celeste

toward the east

where it is attached to another chest

like a long tin-can telephone

pulled taught whispering vague but constant thoughts

suggest

wandering like a letter misaddressed

a secret sliver of silver static

barely professed

guessed

Spider silk is stronger than a bulletproof vest

The silver thread outmatches that silk compressed

It will not break no matter how stressed

But alas

it is too thin for me to walk along like a tightrope across the ocean

the impossible quest

cruel jest

So I stay in house arrest

and feel

every

tug

Ellen is a visual and verbal artist. Born in California, she grew up in Osh, Kyrgyzstan, and Hanoi, Vietnam, and has spent the past decade living in Los Angeles, USA, and dreaming about her next international transition. She spends her time exploring the arts, cuisine, and nature of local, international, and imaginary places.