The New Shirt...
she bought me
lies on the table, still folded
and pinned. Palm trees
and a small island parade
across a black background.
The perfect gift for a man
who refuses to wear golf shirts
or one of those boring button down
bargains you find at JCPenny.
I remove the pins, the plastic
strip and the collar becomes
compliant, though not as soft
as her mouth on my neck.
The sleeves, folded across
the chest, reminded me
of the last time I held her
prisoner in my arms.
I count the buttons: seven.
Two more than on that blouse
she wore last night.
I imagine the next time
we are together, know
I won’t let a dozen buttons
come between us.
poem by Clifton King
Added by Poetry Lover
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