The sharp blade of her mind
Slips through the fabric of her life.
Shredded memories overlapped,
Overlaid and woven into
The story of her time.
No cloak or blanket this,
No tapestry of frozen past,
But a silken thing.
A net expertly cast.
Nomad Omnia
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetess-4/
