Fray

a frayed edge of a toothbrush

or a rug

tell me i’m truly alive

in case i doubted which

i do

not want to be alone

i don’t

think so anyway

it wears on me

time

like my teeth

on brushes

or my feet

on rugs

i am being erased by

these moments

and i bristle, but this encourages

my erasure

the present cleansed of me

by time rubbing against me

and time recalled to shine again

as always

while i fray.