My Favourite Dress
The dress that you gave me
My favourite one, hangs in my closet
Next to none, I have outgrown the colours
Hanging on to the memories hidden in its folds.
The smell of you and me
Washing out the blotches of the past
Trying to Iron out the creases
From each and every line.
How easy life would have been
Had relationships been like clothes
If we could change them each day
Wiping out all you said and never understood.
31.11.2020
Copyright © Carol Mitra | Year Posted 2020
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