red and black intertwined

side by side they turn. twist. up, down, through, and over themselves. but always intertwined. red and black. sometimes tightly wound, sometimes loosely bound.

i can't determine where the beginning is. but the end is abrupt, sharp. it cuts into the things i touch. catches on my hair when i run my fingers through it. a painful reminder when i scratch my skin against it by accident.

isn't it so like us.

these two, red and black, weaved together.

i stare at it now, on the fourth finger of my right hand. remembering.