the needle

idle fingertips.
shaking joints.
you don't tell me what you know.
am i there or am i not?
either way, i reap what i sow.
sew some flowers into dirt.
stitch. stitch.
i've perfected my knitting technique.
as i write this with yarn entwined
around my fingers.
they'll grow to flowers,
my fingers will.
blossom and spread
since they were stitched.
only so
that i may shake your hand.