you put on a dress from the free bin
at the infoshop
probably en route to a future as curtains
upcycled by a sewing machine- it was
nothing special, a pink flower pattern over black
that fit like it took hours to pick
the revolving door sat sternly propped open
to let whoever in
with a guest of wind, it swayed on your frame
like a mare’s tail in sea breeze
ocean plant life, privy to the tide
I saw you like a first time seeing you
glowing in front of the grey water bucket
in the dressing room, bathroom
beams of light sneaking between black curtains
to live brighter at your feet
I thought nothing-
my mind in waves with the trim
all my organs merging into a mass and glowing
like the free computer screens
through the gathering of strangers
in a radical social center
theory books on politics above books by lunatics
the phone with a sticker saying ‘this phone is tapped’
it is simple to see
Me, the volunteer
leaning towards the dress
did you know?
you didn’t know- I thought
you should’ve taken it-
should’ve taken a picture in it
your son would keep it and say
‘yes, my mother… she is beautiful.’

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Filed under Poetry, Prose, Rambling

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