T he
L ast
P air cas
C aded in a blue
G littered velvet vamp that
M ade my chunky shins look like Cat Woman’s.
I
carried
the barefoot
while I hobbled
and cast them in the closet with the others
That I will not wear again, the leather
Kitten heels and cork pumps, the stiletto boots that kill my back.
I
M iss
T hem and
I still feel
Them In the bone
M arrow of my hurting soles.
So thrilled to read poetr-art, pict-a try. I know there’s a name that escapes me now. But the disjunction of the words from their letters mirrored the content of habits, apparel, thoughts that damage, debilitate, and often destroy–or at least dis-join us. I enjoyed the play/pain juxtaposition.