Dressing for work in a toothpaste-stained mirror
By. Lori Noto
Today, I dressed you in cotton,
softer than the wool sweater I wore
until the seven-year winter in me ended.
though I am not sure yet
if the cotton suits you.
I’ve become too used to accessorizing you
with other things,
like the aroma of a sick, pungent perfume
or a finger gun jammed
into the holster of your throat.
Loving what no else seemed to
makes this all too hard.
I only dance as well
as those who taught me how to move,
but I am trying.
Watch as I raise our arms