Cora Thomas
My dress is frayed at the ends
That’s what saltwater does to cotton
Wears it down
Like stone
Washes away the color
Smooths out the wrinkles
Until what’s left
Wants to start at the end
And feel its way back to the beginning
Over every rough over every silk
Where the threads are strong
and sure of themselves
Until what’s left
My scarf is frayed at the ends
That’s what wind and salt does to cotton
Wears it down
Like stone
Fades color
Pushes wrinkles
Smooth
Until what’s left
Is loosely wrapped around my neck
Failing to hold me together
So I don’t sail away
Clamor 