rozk: (Default)
[personal profile] rozk
1983

Hung in closed cupboards of my dozing mind
Or on their shelves, frocks shoes I used to wear.
No moth no broken heel no hems that tear
Nail catch dance step. I left them all behind
Months clean sheets bandaged bled out cut and sore
Doing my face in bed so I'd look well
For visitors. Whore face I'd paint to sell
Now reassuring friends. Ached to the core
Of who I'd been weak tired sad gross from bloat
Dance done I thought. And had not learned that charm
Would bring blonde cuties floating on my arm
I wish that i could send sick girl a note
Things work out fine. Wear black from head to toe.
It slims. And other things she'll need to know.
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