I'd been dreaming of a white Christmas,
but then I dreamed of those blue jeans,
sculpted to your shape,
slipping past the shame that lived beneath my skin,
as your hand slipped past the hem of my dress.
These are the visions I denied myself,
drowning in guilt that was unearned,
and rage that didn't belong to me.
Perhaps, I will be healed, if you help me out of my silk and satin,
while I lie, hypnotised by those blue jeans?
I'll try anything,
just to dull this pain.
Dull my dreary doubts, darling.
I deserve to be in bliss.
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