Dry-Clean

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I wonder about your clothes:
Where you got them,
what face you made when you tried them on,
what voice you used when you paid for them.

I wonder if you’ve ever slept in them,
and what happened that night,
and how you felt that morning.
I wonder what you remember when you put them on,
and what you try not to remember.
I’ll never remember (but I’ll never forget).

I wonder how they feel
when you run your dirty hands down them,
and how you felt
when she ran her dirty hands down them.

Most of all,
I wonder why, after wearing them
you shove them in the back of your closet,
like you’re frightened,
like you’re ashamed.
You didn’t know what shame was
before,
but your clothes taught you.

I wonder about your clothes:
When you come into my shop
You give me your suits and your trousers,
but you never give me those,
your jeans and tee-shirt,
you never give me your real clothes.

I don’t know why but I want to rip them off of you.





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