Stitches
by Sad Child
Wednesday, October 09, 2002
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Fascinated by the texture
Of the fabric of your verve
Makes no sense to me
Mine itself is faded
Torn and frayed
But your has strands
The shouldn't be
Woven together
Gripping the threads
Like drowning sailors
Washed by gallons
Of too salty tears
But intact today
It keeps you warm
That's fine with me
I smile as the flames
Engulf the cloth
Of my existence
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