t u r n e d - i n s i d e - o u t

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my soul's

loose ends

of love unrequited

and frayed knots

of worn, tight anxiety

are revealed

like a delicate dress

turned inside out

to reveal all its flawed glory-

haphazard stitches

holding the patterned pieces

together by a thread

and the drops of crimson

that have dried and bled

into the blush taffeta,

agonies of the seamstress

who was never talented

with the needle

but more at home

with the easel,

but always wanting

to blend and laugh

along with the people

who wore organza shawls

and velvet lined waistcoats,

always hiding the imperfections

underneath all the cashmere

and misdirection


{ROUGH DRAFT}


love,

mari



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