Faux-pas

I sit here knitting sweaters
for your eyelids
weaving cashmere  weather
and faux apologies for the I-did’s
But I don’t crochet
And I don’t delay
the finest second hand rapture
I can serve
I capture parts
fractured hearts
I don’t deserve
stick with me
macrame yourself with brie
cast off your foolish glee
cause baby I only serve me

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