I asked for a ‘line’ to begin this poem this morning. Chatting about emotional availability and such relational experiences with a friend. I, making a statement about the challenge of that, and that it might not be “…your best suit.” And out of that, came this line. Oh… I like it. Let’s see where it goes shall we….
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‘I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit”
It was from Paris and fit me like a glove
I lent that best suit of mine to someone
Someone’s got my ‘best suit’
And now I have no suit at all
No suit to protect my emotional vulnerability
And what suits me up in my protection
Is all layered up with decades of proof
That I might not be all that worthy of love
I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit
I wore it well till I lent it out to someone
I suit up now with beer and smoke
And the distance that lives in that avoidance
I do lay my best cards down everyday
Let the ‘deal’ fall as it may with the hope
For that Royal Flush to win over the mundane
That suits some days and not others
In the lonely of the singularity
I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit
It fit me like a glove Paris styled
I wish I knew who I lent it to
It suited me back in the day
Looking good in my show of self
In the no fear of vulnerability
strutting the confidence of youth
Not needing the to be available
except for the surfaces with the Jack wild
And I was suited up for the take me I’m yours
I wish I knew who I lent it to
It fit me like a glove
It suited me
Awesome. This reminds me of a writing exercise we did once where everyone took a cliche and made it literal..I wrote about someone getting under my skin…Thanks, Jeanne–you are continually inspiring!
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Thanks Shaun… Prompts are endless fun. Some unfold in delight and unexpected ways.
xp
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I like it, Jeanne.
Kate H20
Sent from my iPhone
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Thanks Kate. xo
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