Five pieces of fabric hang on the changing room door
They hug, drape and ripple upon her skin
With each change
A small evolution
That doesn't quite match her vision
Of what she wishes when she walks down the street
Made, in her mind, to display the best of society
In the glittering shadows of fast fashion industries
That should attract adorations from others
So she can fill her heart with her own
Stack each comment on top of the other
Racks of sunhats like the giant flowers of summer
Painting the streets
Displayed to draw the eye and brighten up the inside of one's psyche
So fast fashion may bloom into a lucrative season
Adorned and posted in filtered photos
Under the heel of society's fair kindness
Though who she is, as a person
Unlike the changing seasons
Is not governed by the Earth's rotation
Nor the assumed rules of society.
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YOU ARE READING
Cement City
PoetryHow to capture it all? I was no photographer My paint brushes, I have retired And words simply do not belong On a cover The same way they fit In my mouth, or march along the surface Of these pages. How to capture it all? The sounds, the smells, the...
