Blinds, pleated paper Shades gone crepe and torn
from fighting off the scorn of sun and flies like
A barrier constructed from a billion iterations
To keep your insides in
As the song goes.
Fragile coverings as altar to becoming impenetrable to cracks.
(What happens when the light gets in?)
I heard that a gift of clover, bundled and bowed without malice, will give them courage to leave:
-that gym membership across town that never has hand soap in the restrooms.
(if that’s what’s in their heart, that they never once knew they’d be brave enough to)
She’ll never know, will she? Unless she looks.
She can’t give herself these flowers,
But she can tear aside old and useless shades.