Should I be Sari?
I see no reason
to cry and mourn the dress you chose over me But I know only of skirts and jeans
Why choose a dress so tattered and worn inherited from usurpers whose future you forlorn
Where did the stitches come from? Why do they percolate your cloth? Am I the one to be sorry? To enable your voracious moths?
Could we stitch a compromise Between Sari and jean, Could we take what frees us and excise which lies between?
You tell me “it’s not possible a master tailor, you are not, no compromise is workable your designs lack mastered thought”
Then to hell with our clothing and perfect union in designs let’s be bare witnesses to our true forms and be each other’s “mine”
Without the constriction of clothes we are free to each other I To you You To I The rules of sartorial etiquette no longer apply In this ensemble We exist We love We are known We sparkle
But so quick are you, why Why are you so quick to reassume The sari that constricts you derived from derelict loom
I’m sorry I don’t get it your sense of style should be damned You inherited from a seamstress Who knows nothing of your hand
Sorry you don’t see it, the sparkles in your work but you hide it from masters before you your sparkle, now scant to lurk
I refuse to see you wear it Now that it’s been known you cast it off when convenient to reassume a tawdry throne
Sorry for heirloom saris and what they may convey but from a nascent tailor They signify nothing left to say
Promenade with a tailor less gullible than I For if they can accept your sari The tatters won’t tear my eyes
Posted Aug 23, 2022, 3:27 AM UTC