NaPoWriMo #9

Clothes Shopping

I am a cloud, ball
of comfort.
Floating and breezing
in open earnest,

happy and loose.
But the mirror spells me out
as frump, as lump, as
not womanly.

No strong curve,
no visible, eatable
drag-slapped line to say
femme.

Everything I have tried on today
made me feel
as though I was a wet cod
stuffed in a net.

And why,
after all these years
do they still think we might
deliquesce?

Might simply fall to bits,
or start shedding key body parts
if we are not shoved, bandaged
and bound into place.

I like fancy clothes.
I like to whip and mould a soft arch
from my own body that says
look- I grew this, isn’t it nice?

But today, I want to be weightless
and unburdened by zip, buckle and
digging hem. I want easy movement
under the warm sun.

And the gap
where the breeze can reach
under loose cotton, and find nothing
but ungirdled belly

is not a gap
where my dignity might start to leak out
if I am not careful.

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