It rose with ease from honeyed tone, A sticky delight, like a payday loan. It coated the tongue and stained the grin- You tried to leave, but sank back in.

I go where you go, but I never see light, I wrap what you hide and I cling pretty tight. I’m silent, elastic, and stitched to obey, but flash me in public and folks look away.

I slipped through seams no light could cross, Each pull aligned, my path was drawn. My length pulled tight- no slack, no dawn- Until I snapped. And stitched you on.

They named you first, and held their aim, A word you wore, but never claimed. It clung like ash, like iron flame- And now you bear the shape of it.

I’m always dropping down under the table, then everyone tries to pick me up. They want me to clean up what should have been swallowed. But the more they make me lap up. . . the dirtier I feel.