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Your Shirt, Our Shirt

January 31, 2011 by Johnna Cornett

-for Ellen and Jim

You know that old T-shirt of yours,
puckered at the neck,
holes worn of bleach and laundering,
letters faded,
shape stretched?
That shirt that gets in the way
when I fold clothes into stacks,
That shirt I object to
should you wash our car in it–
(better you wash a car with it.)

That shirt, your shirt, I’m always
to get rid of?

Well, I’m wearing it.
And nothing else.

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