Years of dreaming haven’t rusted
the zip teeth; unforgiving seams
lay down their outline in gold fabric
untouched by age, and the catch

fastens as it should, a close fit.
I’m barely sweating but barely
breathing as well, a strange dryness
stinging my eyes like tears

because somehow there are two
bodies in this dress, yours
an ethereal whisper clinging to mine,

holding on in the way that I want to
but cannot hold on to you.

memory

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