your silvery skin doth reflect the light
of moon, sun
or lantern
you are the answer to my plight
you alone can requite
my need to plug, mend or fasten
As you unreel from your cardboard round
twisting, turning, yearning
to rejoin yourself and be forever bound
you hiss a sound
known to all of your lovers
the ripping, thrumming, exhilarating err
of one who can fix, affix, sooth and secure
a box to a stick
a pick to its handle
a shoe to its very
sole
Thee to none shall I compare
Duct tape, you are the answer
to all
of my
repairs
_Phoebe
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| June's version of an iPod case. I guess it's hereditary... |
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