Tying Together Two Strings

My shoelaces have achieved the look of the unknown.

Strangers stare at them as if they’ve become autistic

and contain secrets when they’re

really only frayed and coming undone.

Whenever I reach down to tie them, I appear even

stranger, and suddenly I have the honor of people

believing I’m a whore in

love and corduroy.

And I may love, but I have no desire

to confuse love with shoelaces.

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