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Heart and Sole MAG
Some pin their hearts on their sleeves,
Or chains sliding down their necks,
Or clips woven into brightly streaked hair.
I wear my heart, large and bright,
On the bottom of my Converse low-tops,
Crusted with dried dirt that has long since hardened
On the glow-in-the-dark rim
That envelops shiny, clear vinyl
In which my purple-and-yellow-patterned socks show through.
They stretch up to my knees,
Slightly crumpled, uneven and striking.
Winding and folding down long tan legs
And into size 10 low-tops hugging size 10 feet
That have never longed for the caressing softness
Of gentle sheepskin in Australian boots.
With neon stockings pulled over them,
My thin, long feet progress into
Thin, long toes, irregular and bent by nature.
Tips dipped in shiny cobalt and midnight charcoal,
The brilliant colors are useless and hidden.
I wear my heart large and bright, though unseen,
On the bottoms of my shoes.
Shown only through the acts of jumping, kicking, or falling,
Dirtied with mud and worn from miles,
I pin my heart proudly on my sole.