Patience and steady hands,
Precision with every move,
A keen eye to spot the faults,
Correct, and attempt once more.

So thin, easy to tear,
Gentle your touch
As it bends to your will.
Fold upon fold, in and out,
A purpose there is,
For every single crease.

Scars brought together at last,
Made into something new.
An elegant form of art,
Sprung from sheets we always use.


© J.L.D