I try to put away
time. For you-
In a place.
Neat. Tidy and
matching.
We’ve worn eachother out.

fill the void,
the holes keep getting bigger.
Drawn out. Rinsed.
Nothing smells fresh anymore.
Everything is tired,
threadbare.
Strands that kept us
together. The folds.
Rolls. Turned into eachother.

inside and out.
Moth eaten, fuzzy-wuzzies.
I don’t keep my money
there with you anymore.
we’ve been through
the washer
clean they said and we thought.
stretched and lost more like.
far away away apart.

Left to bake in the sun.
faded
crinkled
Unsaved drafts, prototypes.
We slip over the real thing.
Misshapen gloves.
Beneath layers.
Mouths gaping.
Bottoms sewn shut.

Not dates nor cheese.
Like we’re baking bread
no longer breaking.
Our holes are there for everyone to see.
Toes poking out.
Extra limbs,
strange attachments.
coloured and discoloured.
Trying on new styles.

We are after a fashion.
Pulled on
worn in
worn out
and cast aside or lost in the washing machine.
We are a couple
of sockettes.

-My Face-

It comes
out when I
Sweat.
Cheeks pulled.
The eyes

face it

my sickness of thought
shining out
its there

flattening
shining bare

Flat, gloves shining bare.