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tired but fully clothed

by Beth Pauli
I am tired, but fully clothed.
My pants are too tight,
my shirt too big.
I am squeezed into a body of
flesh and bone marrow.
I can't feel my heart beat
against my shirt --
am I alive?
Or am I walking through this world
seen, but unnoticed?

My heels are bruised
telling me I'm grounded,
but my soul is lost amongst
the folds in my shirt.
So I stoop and I sit where I was once standing
to try and call my spirit back.
Perhaps I should lie on my back.
Now wind snuggles under my
shirt billowing it like a balloon.
I wonder when the string that ties me
down will be let go.

Tired, but fully clothed
I close my eyes and enter a dream
depending on fabric to keep me
safe and warm.
I feel myself falling,
so I start.
Awake I find myself naked amongst many.




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