Sunday, August 24, 2014

(worn)

worn like sweater-holes, like your thumbs
pressing through my skin and me
wrapping around your hands

worn like foot soles, like miles
of asphalt without flowers peeking
through the cracks

worn like forgetting you, and then
it’s years later and I’ve worn so many other
people’s sweaters, and I’m

just worn out


(composed in sixty seconds at oneword.com)

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