threadbare

You are stitched into my skin.
Each day woven by your thread,

Even the weather, with
Clouds sewn into the sky and
Rain, like dropped stitches.
My every breath taken in unison
With fingers darting across cloth

My eyes pricked by the jolt of your beauty.

My thumb mushrooms a flawless blood drop
Scarlet-hued and perfect for a ripped by desire.

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