Jonathan B. Aibel

SKIN

Night after night, I pull
off my shirt, throw it

into the laundry,
empty, stretched, sagged,

once it fit well,
once I was fit,
once I fit my life,

stained, scarred,
how much longer
will I wear my shirt,

worn, like me,
dunk it under water,

wash off the dirt
day, after day.