'All the seconds after I die'

I unwind this moment to a single line

And it stretches out the door

-

 It has been used as fishing rod

As plastic and vine, cable and string

Someone told me, you have used it too

As telephone wire to reach me

But the phone kept on ringing

You bundle it up, but it's too heavy

Slipping like sand, measuring time as such

And now it's glued to your wall

Where ages and heights are drawn

Your daughter, 5'10, studies architecture

At her wedding you mention your sister

Dead and decomposed

‘How long will love remain?’

‘As long as a piece of string’