Threadbare Love

You loosely threaded my heart,
with half a spool, seams showing,
in faded, denim blue, years to stonewash,
worn patches interwoven,
my threadbare heart to glue,
no pleats, only crumpled, jagged lines,
with no parallel course,
but neat cuffs, folded to your
specifications, tapered, each ankle
to encase, girded by hemp twine,
my searching feet to bine, no enlaced
pockets, your esteemed value with
which to pare, for belt, common, white
rope, girth to align, with your jealous
mind, for your hands, taut rein,
no slack to cut.
A tightly, tailored love, spartan design,
coarse pattern, sewn with a cheap
fabric, stitches baring the strain,
with no aesthetic appeal, only my
unseemly figure remains