The Skirt Sonnet Jo Castle
Mine is one that follows the call of wind: floating and ballooning, a parachute. Staying in place only if she is pinnedif the sun’s out, she’ll perform her salute. I beg of her, please, just protect my knees, and then while you’re at it cover my thighsfor all it takes is one summer’s light breeze, and I must feel the hunger of their eyes. A thing of caprice is my dear old skirt. It need not matter, immodest or chaste, because this garment is an extrovert, and need not care if it leaves me disgraced. But no, I won’t disrobe by any means, because I just look fat if I wear jeans.
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