There it was: cast on, cast
off the botched rows.
The unstitch and pulled
needles soothe an extension
of the body and how
you hate taking up space.
It seemed the transformation
were to no end, as though
the scarf weren’t a scarf,
but a blanket you couldn’t stop knitting
until even the pattern began to change.
By Karen Alayna Thimell
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Karen Alayna Thimell is currently working toward her MFA in poetry at The University of Pittsburgh. After graduating with her BA in English at The University of Oklahoma, she interned for a non-profit poetry journal as well as a non-profit organization for the development of literacy and literary arts for children and teenagers. Her work has been included in Babel Fruit and Papyrus.
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