This is for Taylor
I stuck a string through the eye,
to this not a soul paid mind.
I'd prefer red, blood red
strings from what I've cut open.
Oops, I dropped some on the floor.
Of course, my dog chews on them.
My finished work looked grotesque.
I put all my heart to it,
I even pricked a finger
in the making of your gift,
a very ugly sweater.
Well, I'm no tailor, Taylor.