Evyan Roberts

BLUE JEANS

Indigo stained armor, denies the world
the rise and fall of fabrics below my waist.
Keeping me safe, unlike a summer dress
snatched by the wind. With a hemline
forced to meet the lips of my embarrassed smile.

 Have you ever been followed for ten blocks
by a stranger, calling to slide between your thighs
with sloppy kiss effects, past apathetic witnesses
after witness?  

Lending my body to eyes like a temporary
home, summer urges them to shred every
airy frock I own. Pushes subway car neighbors
to  rummage through me with their dilated pupils.
Asks swarming pedestrians to wander
with their fingertips at my skirts lipstick stained edge.

Have you ever been followed for ten more blocks
by a stranger, holding the crotch
of his sweatpants, who just wants
to get a good look at them pannies’gain?

Midday heat orders them to bore me clean out,
persuades them to keep going through skin and bone,
as they hum with thoughts underneath my dress.   

But my summertime armor, my blue jeans,
peel back slowly for my own sake. At my own
pace. No gust or man can separate us.

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