2006/sandals

I’m still
wearing
my old sandals,
preserving the
new ones.
These acts are
such folly,
but I can’t
help myself.
Or don’t want
to.
I bought three
pair to be
set for the
season,
but I’m trying
to make
the new ones
last,
slipping them
back in the box
after each use.
The cardboard
mold that holds
their shape put
back in place,
the tissue tucked
around them.
The boxes stacked
up, so I can
read the colors.
Buttero brandy,
buttero lipstick
and cashmere,
which translates
into brown,
red and
beige.

6/15/06

(used also as intro to prose piece “Priscilla”)