By Mina Talebi, TIWP Student

Pretty little buttons,
All lined up in a row,
I guess for the rest of them,
It’s all just a show,
The actors are plagued
With the curse of enslaved. 
But the stage of worn wood, 
May not be enslaving,
And to speak the words to the world,
That just may be lifesaving. 
The soft of your cotton coat,
It rubs against my skin,
Forever thank you,
Forever love you,
Just because you let me in. 

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