Light Weave

Lightless stories
woven from the heaviest fabric
in rough linen, scratchy
with tags of the past,
still unremoved after several eclipses
of sweaters pulled over heads
and hair mussed up by woolen static
in the eternal winter of space
where threads unravel quietly,
uncovering more silent moons
to orbit dead eyes
in sighing haloes and singing stars
covering the knit lightyears of scarf,
the rough tapestry
alive against cold cheeks.