The
green
shirt
has been
lying,
curled up neatly
inside the closet
for almost a year.
I'll wear it,
I say,
when I lose
weight,
when there are no
bulges,
no
creases,
to mar
to mark.
A year has come and gone.
The
green
shirt
is out--
on myself,
with bulges
and mars,
creases
and marks,
but not as much.
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