Buttons
Certain words,
like buttons on a dress,
maintained their normal role while you were here,
though I confess that one was there unseen,
hidden in a fold upon my breast,
but when you turned they each came loose,
and all, in stress, came crowding to my mouth,
incapacitating throat and tongue;
it was less their need of new employment,
than their total lack of preparation,
their training having been for separation;
so now, in need, they did not know the rules,
of being first or last, and especially did they lack
the flow of being grouped along a space;
all this rose and caused my suffocation,
the weight of chill upon my body’ skin,
for suddenly I knew that some fine garment,
thin and bright,
was falling falteringly to the floor.