•if trusting was as easy as stitching•
Trust stands like an orphan, in the corner
of my room, like a half crescent moon,
awaiting for a selenophile to finish the orb,
or like a blanket, waiting to be folded, like
a model of origami. Auburn shades, magenta
and pinks, unfurled in somatic disorders,
trust with too many knots and torn and an
overflowing soliloquy search a stitch.
•captioned•
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