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Moving

Blunt streaks of sweat thumb-pressed across the buttoned collar—        
white with a tinge mark of a proud scent.

Crinkling around the placket in a vice-grip       
with hands ripping away.        
Strings unwind their whitewater seam to the end where buttons pop out the mouth of flappy tails.

I'll take this shirt with me        
from the body of the latest flop—        
sewn and resewn for the form of the next attempt.
Written by DecipherMe
Published | Edited 21st Mar 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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