“ROPA VIEJA LIKE PAN”
by Kimberly Morales
im wearing all your old clothes
im wearing all his old clothes
theyre wearing all theyre old clothes
you are wearing all your old clothes
wear – my old feet
where – all your old shoes
what am i
but an amalgamation
of everyone else
around me?
is that bad
is that not real
and what if everyone is around me
always?
i seek them out thru windows
where time goes
driven by my need for old clothes
i need more clothes
new things to wear
and lay over myself
i want to lay my skin
on my skin
i want to feel me
beside myself
naked if i have to be
your dark cargo pants fit me right
but now i have your brown belly
your perfume sits wet on my neck
heavy and just smells like theft
your winter coat all stolen and blue
is all mine along with your shoulders
and the bruises they carry
your t-shirts cracked slogans
are cute on my breasts
every time i inhale, i exhale your breath
and your words are borrowed too
i give them back to you
with the constants torn at the corners
and the spine of your lent vowels
is beginning to fall apart
id take your eyebrows
if i knew how to draw them on right
im wearing all your old clothes
im wearing all his old clothes
theyre wearing all theyre old clothes
you are wearing all your old clothes
i am you and you of me
i am made up of everyone
i am no such thing
