Kindreds

I used to wrap my wrists in ribbons -

Cream-colored lace with brocade patterns of

Cerulean blue fleur-de-lis and 

English ivy. 

My eyes, I outlined with bleu kohl and

Grass green shadow

My dress was vintage white meaning

Well-loved. 

My black lace-up boots were hidden by

My hem. 

I was not fashionable. 

It's hard to be unique and different.

This is cliche and seemingly pompous 

It doesn't make it any less true. 

I painted my nails black and 

Wore my father's flannel. 

I hid my face behind 

Cascades of auburn hair. 

On my 16th birthday, I received 

Two precious gifts:

A neon pleated maxi dress made of heavy linen 

Circa 1965

And a pair of braided hemp platform shoes

I'd been coveting. 

My girlfriend gave these things to me. 

We kissed only once, but it was enough. 

She knew me better than I knew myself. 

She dressed me like her doll -

I was a poor reflection in my eyes alone. 

And when she came to me crying on my couch

I knew that we were kindreds. 

What I didn't know then that I know now is that

A kindred does not last

Forever.