no words pass between us.
the cotton coat hangs in the passage waiting for cool weather. I touch it as I pass. sometimes when I pass I press my face against the cloth. its smell is human.
removing my shoes I lean against the wall for balance. I lean against the coat.
my mother’s old coat. a house for the napping child.
the teacher’s coat against the rain. my own coats.
each worn for years. each. a house. to hide in.
preferred of all garments.
do you suppose if I displease them they will let me leave me to die if you live a life of secrets it’s hard to make friends if I were a tree I should not be very tall I grow so slowly
now. unsafe. I struggle. but I can see myself.
I try coloring outside the lines.