It was just an aisle imitation

It was just an aisle imitation

black is only my color in the winter
it's sadly common this rebellion
against the gray
a line of crows on your telephone line
looked like an omen to me
but you liked the sleekness of their feathers
a flash of indigo when the light was just right
you knew it felt like velvet
even without touching

I was leatherette never claimed
to be the real thing I just stole the name
it didn't smell right but it felt just as cold
while you feigned concern for the animals
I pretended faux was fun
and we wrapped each other up in something
false convinced ourselves it was better
than something dead
from a distance you watched
as the birds swooped down
and turned away
as they picked at my remains