Shapeshifter By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
It's 3:00 PM, my ribs ache under
nylon/spandex compression as I window-shop
with a dishonest swagger.
I nicked my dad's belt and it sits
proudly ‘round my too-wide hips,
itsgold buckle bright (but specked with rust)
And I strut up and down the street,
tiny hands stuffed in my pockets,
5ft 3 bones ramrod straight.
My mum sits at the cafe chatting
to some hippy vegan friend,
"Ah, Helen, meet my daughter."
I smile and grit my teeth.
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