Why does the fabric in my jeans
strain and prickle
as from the need of needles?
impatient with slips of fingertips
of dripping secrets from her dreams
of urgent quotas to be reached.
of unthreaded threats
and groping, kneaded needs of want
The bulging supervision of the men.
The secret in my jeans —
present itself in seams
screaming with her eyelids itching
stitched open with a lack of sleep
deep in the fabric lies
a factory’s secret’s hidden.
in confessions of its deeds.
my jeans are overtime — unpaid
my jeans are salary deductions for
her need to pee.
my jeans are indigo chemicals
diluted into soup
my jeans are her eczema and her life
my jeans were bought on sale
with itches from the seamstress’ days.
Today Anthony wants us to write about confessions at dVerse.. I found them in my jeans.
March 10 2015