Mismatched socks

Mismatched socks

Round heels with blob like toes,
My feet marched to a country so near.
Thinking of mates and stories left behind.
Dreaming of new musings and plots to unwind.

Now my toes crawl into a petal shaped shoe.
Not knowing the narrow spaces,
With no sign boards and smell.
An old body with new garb.

Walking inside out of the box shaped rooms.
Where the mundane work mounts;
Into moth shaped beings with chiming mourns.
Crossed eyebrows arching on wide hips.

Ribs now feel like a queen’s corset.
Crushing my curves and numbing my nerves.
A short saunter with distant thoughts,
To reach a place with an apocalyptic soul.

Feed my rumble to a promise of slumber.
Prepare my bed with voices from native land.
So I stretch my curved toes to have a perfect fit tomorrow;
Wake up to find my ankles sunk in mismatched socks.

Mismatched socks, reminiscing tales of parted destinies.