Clothing Line
Clean silhouettes, invisible seams, confidence sold by the yard. Fabric made of fear and pretense— woven from promises and praise. You felt light, you felt seen. The silk felt like brisk air on your skin. Nothing but aloof applause and social proof as midnight mirrors proving the perfect fit. You felt pampered, you subscribed for life. It served you perfectly. The Emperor’s new clothing line.
©Samia Oldman
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CONTEXT
You are reading dystopian fantasy poetry collection the Hush Halo. After the Great Optimization a privileged group of people wired themselves tightly into the system by aligning with it and fully integrating. Systoics believe they’ve perfected themselves by stripping away everything that slows them down.
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