Delicate

I tried to work with the delicate
Fabric and handle it gently with extra
Tender thoughtful care, paying so much
Attention to every nuance of stitching
And pulling and catching, but
It was so lacy and fine and slippery
By design that eventually it ripped
Apart between my fingers, ravels
Of threads lingering for a moment
Softly on my skin before sliding
Away never to be seen again.
Sometimes I miss the remnants
Of that time when a gossamer
Material was mine to admire,
But I suppose I would do better
With a hardier substance that
Doesn’t fall to shreds in the slightest
Breeze of discontent. 🙄

~*~

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