heussenstamm

I cannot wear sequins.

A closet full of skirts and dresses

tried on over the years;

wishful thinking.

 

What I do,

where I live

does not lend itself

to swoops of air between the legs;

bluster and sparkle.

 

No need for headlights.

 

It feels like a violation;

the paradox of glitter

and steaming mulch;

canyons and the finality

of fabric cleaving

to the four winds.

2013-03-04 12.43.34