She’s trying on a newly found adaptability,
One that she never knew she had—
It must have been in storage—
A fluid dress, she thinks she likes it.
As she bends over backwards
The fabric stretched to accommodate
A stain in your esteem.
Her body swims within it,
Responding
To being patted,
Being pulled—
Sometimes in two directions.
Her waiting ego
Disappears with ease
In blue, cool—cooling—creases.