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(Un)Dressed To Impress
I have known her
(the girl who would always be exposed)
to defy headlines
-the laws of fashion-
to abandon all preconceptions
or attire
(the girl who saw the truth in nothing)
to hide in frames,
on palettes,
and masquerade as something
strangely beautiful
(the girl who was worthy of paint)
to descend into
harmless fantasy
and conquer the satin skin
of adolescence
(the girl who relinquished innocence)
to unfold in bedrooms
and break in backseats
for the freedom of
an empty encounter
(the girl who suppressed satisfaction)
to slither deep into
sordid tile
to bury her(self
newfound shame
(the girl who once picked fruit in the garden)
to shatter mirrors and
char photographs
to pretend the form,
the feeling- never changed
(the girl who was no more)
Yes, I have seen her waiting there-
running her hands through the hedge in
search
of a door, a hand-
a memory
that she was once the chaste,
that she had been the first.
(the girl who was long forgotten)
poem
by
Adam Conway
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