window shopping

I am not many things.
I have learned what I am not
like slipping on a pair of jeans that fit too snug.
I have struggled to pull them over my legs,
over my face, over my breasts,
but the material’s squeeze is tight on my skin.
Or like a shirt that fits too loose,
falling off my shoulders,
hiding me in its folds.
I have learned what I am not
by trying on many clothes.
I know what isn’t me.
I know which colors
bring out my eyes, and
I know which cut looks best on my thighs.
I’ve been window shopping,
I’m just passing by.

 

lg

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