Velveteen and closed with slim metal clasps
Laying on the seat next to the edge of a dress.

Let me slip my hand inside to find
Nothing but a $100 bill that isn't mine.

The car comes to a lurching stop
I pay the cabbie and get out to walk.

A few coins and an aching heart
Linger with the clasp's top apart.

My silken dress swirls around my knees
At the bottom of the stairs of apartment three.

One single step leads right to the next
Velveteen catching my ragged breath.

The metal clasps held firmly closed
As I knock on the door to fill the hole.

Stolen bills and velveteen held close
And the door unbolts…

But metal clasps remain closed.