Black Shirt

It lays, crumpled.
The light hitting soft wrinkles, textured and segmented by the
filter before it...
It's material covers vision and almost breathes, inhale and exhale.
I toss you around from place to place, positive I don't know where to put you. On the shelf? Out to lunch? In the laundry? On a hanger?
I've danced in you, I've slept with you, I've worn you out on the town.
You are all rolled up in a bunch, next to my head, in bed.
I can't leave your gift of covering behind.
I can't expect you to always be clean and available...you aren't, you won't be, you are living in this world, black shirt.
You lie on your back, full of wonder...
who knows what to do with you next, who cares...
you are part of my wardrobe, my collection of creativity, a canvas that waits for my daily decision making of how to approach the world.

But tonight, you and I, we lie here in the dark...
You are crumpled.
The light hits your soft wrinkles, textured and segmented by the
filter before it...The wrinkles, they almost smile with wisdom and wear...
character surviving fires of daily life....
It's material covers vision and breathes...

as I inhale and exhale.
full of curiosity.