Spin

Spin me
     so my colors blur
     and you mistake my legs for my arms
     my face for my brown hair died blonde
Tighten me into a ball of yarn
     somewhere rural, and foreign and unknown
     where one man's roof is the other's front yard
     leave me at the doorsteps of an old lady’s home
Where she can knit me in a jumper, a pair of tiny socks, a hat, a cover
     she can drape over her worn out legs
     or over a teapot for tea faster brewed.
Don’t let me unravel
            this time
            and form only borders
            empty spaces.