OKay.

by Alexandra Marzella


OKay.


My hand dresses my body.
My mind moves my hand.



My hand types black words on white pages.

Today I am not myself.
Today I am my most hated foe.



I lean against the partition we created for her.

So she would stay.
So she would design. So she would be happy.
So she would be proud.



Was it selfish.

Relating her, to me, to the clothing we’d make side by side.
To the poems we’d read and write.

Forever together in notion or specks.
She descended early. She fled before the fight even started.

Her body, so eccentrically adorned betrayed her.
Her wet legs and shredded shirts no longer protect her.
There is no hard exterior.
Her fashions exposed her. No black spandex, nylon, cotton to defend her.

Whether I write, or I draw, or I watch, or I stare.



I am not myself today.

The black replaces the blue.

The sheer floral curtains adorn her room.
They are the brightest light.



I can’t help but to smile.

Can’t help but to photograph them while the baby sleeps.
At her missing feet.

Healing in the city.

My words, my garbs, determine how far in a day I go The threads, led or fibers, hold us together.

They are one and another.



Each other.


Bio: Alexandra Marzella is an Apparel student at the Rhode Island School of Design. She is currently taking a contemporary poetry class and writing her final paper on fashion and poetry, or the intermixing of the two. She believes these art forms can and do go hand in hand. Her work aims to meld the two subjects together, cohesively, and eloquently. To her, there is no argument, or misunderstanding. It just is.