BIPOLAR SPIFF

Apparel

I have a T-shirt
She's light as a strand of grey hair
Rephrase I that thought
She's as bright as China ware
Rarely she touches my body
But in those moments I feel whole
Beautiful she is to my eyes
She goes into the windows of my soul

I love this white Tee
My Caucasian lover sipping on white tea
She shimmers on me
Bright ideas fall on my forehead in a spree

She is my diamond
My encounters with her, very rare
Of her I'm very fond
In the mirror I need not help but stare

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I own a black Tee
Dark as unblended coffee
Wicked thoughts he thinks
The negative embodiment of me

He is not a fighter
His actions cold as the winter
Cold dark winter
His shade cannot be changed by an Instagram filter
Fast as James Dean
I pray his youth be not the death of me
Smooth as Casanova
The black hole that swallows my supernova

To lose him is not my wish
Of that thought did I burn my three-leafed clover
In my moments of ecstasy with him does a grey cloud hover

He is so wicked
Bruises of my skin
Patches on my knicker
But I cannot leave him
In him I am ill,
In his absence I am sicker

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A own a pair of slacks
Like a checkerboard are they
They are monochrome
But the black and white never play
They are not transgendered
In their name forbid the presence of grey

Loosely do I maintain them
But tightly do I care
They rekindle an old flame
But even they are not aware
At the horizon of their contrast, there lies my power tool
What is this tool?
What which turns kings to bloody fools

The front is not the back
Side regardless,
The back is not the front
Fragile its weak mesh
Amongst my knickers' siblings was I not caught

On another man they have been
A Ménage à Trois on his skin
For their possession I fought
Till my snatching hands intervened

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Too much poetry for two shirts and a pair of shorts?
Significance they have
But only my kind will understand these thoughts.