Catherine

15

A Love Poem
from a flip-flop to a sock
by Catherine

They tell me we should not stand together,
They tell me you are a quiet sole,
That you tip-toe across the floor,
Your fabric too delicate to go outside,
Hiding in the sock drawer,
Folded into yourself.

They say they can see right through me,
That I am dirty and my heels is already worn,
That I run too fast and slap on the ground with sass,
And they are right.

They tell me you are for the winter and I the summer,
But together perhaps we can be for spring;
They tell me I will make you dirty,
But I am willing to let you make me clean;
They tell me our soles do not fit together,
But I can hold you in my t-strap.

I want to teach you to slap across the pavement,
I want you to run into the grass, your fabric dirty,
I want you to learn how to flip and flop.