i still have your shirt
it sits in my closet
color coded among the blues and greys
when i wear your shirt
i dont fill it like i used to
it hangs off sharp angles and
starved collarbones
that shirt
used to be my prized possession
now i wear it to the gym and to work
without a second thought
YOU ARE READING
digital dance - poetry
Poetryyoure not alone in the way you scream at a god who hears but does not understand or care to learn
