Because It Makes Me Ha—Peg Duthie
Because it makes me hapless cradling it in an elbow fearing wrinkles, fearing tears who knew organza to be such weight, so much anxiety tugging at the threads of what should be sheer shining pleasure – how it makes me hasten to drape it properly across an uncrowded chair before I accept your invitation to shimmy and slide across the floor and then, drenched in sweat, to reach for the wrap and then hesitate because, once worn, it cannot remain perfect but, unworn, it is not yet mine.
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