Leather

The curtains pinch
Into a pinkish fold,
Then she turns in the light;
Edges etched in gold.

Strapped up and dressed
In another man’s name,
She presses in close
To feel my shame.

I am a vehicle,
I am a machine;
She wipes up my pain,
My tears unclean.

I return to the world
As the man they want to see;
I close the same door
I will open next week.

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