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thimble sized things
by Angela Thomasin the same breath he tells me his mother
wants to meet me and we should all have
dinner together when he and i arrive
after a 12-hour trip driving together,
he tells me that he doesn't want a relationship,
not that it's me, but just that he wants carefree,
uncomplicated easy sailing, and at that moment,
when i said i was nervous, i was not that.
if i were a piece of fabric, he was starting to sew
a seam down my inside, perfect and straight, before
deciding maybe the needle was warbly and needed
changing. maybe it was better to pull back the thread
from where it had already punctured the cloth. maybe
it was better to just take back what had already been said. 12/09/2012 Posted on 12/10/2012
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jody Pratt on 12/10/12 at 09:51 PM Perfect. The imagery in the third stanza really sews this one together. Too bad it's so sad and the guy's a jerkface. |
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