mannequins

Flailed
the forever being flailed
the threads of the fabric, tearing and pulling each other from all points on its side its its pointy fingers
pointing and wanting
no
yes

walked and walked

and hating you for not hating
or loving
and knowing that this music be changed in order for it to change
because there is no other manner
on the stairs
of walking and juggling and deciphering times that never existed
among frivolous blue clouds that waft in grey sky’s too bright to look upon
did you mean blue
what did you mean, when you said
that i do not love

the arms won’t synchronize,
they wish to move together. hand in hand, with each other,
only for a while
or on some days
I don’t want it everyday
isn’t that too much to ask
you would be busy
the arms won’t synchronize,
they wish to move together. hand in hand, with each other,

so awkward and straight,
not one ahead and one behind

the lies are in the mannequin’s eyes and she can’t lie
she’s just awake and waiting for moments to pass them by

flailed little mannequin

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