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Writer's picturepeachro

thrift store t-shirt

After our bodies became one,

skin and bone meshed together,

gnashing like our words comparing

favorite fictional characters

and musical melodies,

tears filled my eyes.

I fell into you.

Trusting you with my heart

as you extended your hands

and took it from me,

placing it in the front pocket

of your t-shirt—

the first t-shirt I bought you

at the thrift store.


The way it started:

trading shirts we found

each other at the thrift store.

As friends we couldn’t stop

imagining what the other

would look best in;

everything was always reusable.

We reused each other’s

comfort and warmth and safety.

I became hooked on the

security you provided me.

You reused my gray towel

every time you stayed over,

making it a lighter shade of gray

over and over

until it was white—

pure.



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