the “boyfriend shirt”

(c) Kat McDonald Photography

more than mere fabric


the “boyfriend shirt” is blue
blue like the skies
blue like his eyes, as clear and wide as the skies we share,
clear, with perfect vision.
stolen from his bedroom three moons ago,
the “boyfriend shirt” remains quietly fragrant.
i can still smell his scent.
in lonelier moments i hold myself;
i wrap myself in its fabric and breath in. deep.
but it’s more than mere fabric.
wrapped in the “boyfriend shirt”,
its fabric becomes the fabric of time
and i find myself at five a.m. Tuesday.
and it’s his arms wrapped around my body;
and it’s his heart i feel jumping beneath my flat palm;
and it’s his hair if feel curled between collar and clavicle;
and it’s his hands i feel, cool, against my ribs.
the “boyfriend shirt” and i are a perfect fit.
we are more than mere fabric.
we both know how it feels to crave;
to crave the nakedness of this man.
we both know the pale, taut flesh of the stomach;
we both know the golden birthmark on the back;
we both know the curve of spine;
we both know the rhythm of the drum he walks to;
we both know that pelvic gait;
we both know the secrets of the velvet antler.
the “boyfriend shirt” is more than mere fabric.
the “boyfriend shirt” is comfort.
the “boyfriend shirt” is he.
it is comfort when i cannot reach him.
when my arms cannot stretch out across the bed
and feel that body;
when my eyes cannot look across a crowded room
and lock-on to that gaze;
when my soul cannot be soothed by those lullabies;
when my mouth cannot forage in that wilderness.
the “boyfriend shirt” is more than mere fabric.
the “boyfriend shirt” is the perfect fit,
like he.

[for Robert x]

words & image (c) Kat McDonald

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