They
cling to you
like
a desperate lover
their
soft touch caresses your skin.
Wrapped
up in your woollen fleece
safe
from the metallic world
cotton
carves your cries
as
silk sways in your dreams.
The
hidden history
of
your body
underneath
the thick coat
is
a knitted nightmare.
A
baby’s shriek
is
silenced by linen
and
the dead’s last touch
is their favourite outfit.
We
used to run free
naked
and wild
now
clothes have claimed us
in
their powerful embrace.
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