Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Into The Fold

You present me,
all smiles,
with a grey box
empty,
I'm perplexed
You say climb in,
the laughing stops,
and I contort,
distorted,
warped out of proportion,
so bent double
I'm folded into corners.
Legs cramping
knees drawn up to chin,
sharp creases in pale skin.
My shape made anew
by nimble fingers.
Origami idiot

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