Disquietude
Rustle my mind
Iron out the creases
Left me with nothing
But perfect pleats
I can't bear to understand
And flat surfaces
Lacking the wrinkles
Of chocolate
Of stories
Of moments
Maybe of passion
Maybe of clumse
Maybe of sadness
Then again
Doesn't no wrinkles
Tell the story of
A perfectly ironed shirt
A moment
A story
Maybe of passionate ironing
Maybe of clumsy ironing
Maybe of sad ironing
Who am I to judge this shirt-mind
Perhaps
The ironing
Is chocolate
In and of itself.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 4:44 PM UTC
Disquietude
Rustle my mind
Iron out the creases
Left me with nothing
But perfect pleats
I can't bear to understand
And flat surfaces
Lacking the wrinkles
Of chocolate
Of stories
Of moments
Maybe of passion
Maybe of clumse
Maybe of sadness
Then again
Doesn't no wrinkles
Tell the story of
A perfectly ironed shirt
A moment
A story
Maybe of passionate ironing
Maybe of clumsy ironing
Maybe of sad ironing
Who am I to judge this shirt-mind
Perhaps
The ironing
Is chocolate
In and of itself.