like bones, like skin

Golden Shovel after Kim Addonizio

Went to the library and
donated the school dance dresses I’ll
never don again. Hope the next to wear
them is hotter, happier. Hope they wear it
(their heart) on all my sleeves like
hand-me-downs without any closet full of bones,
2 a.m. selfies with the skirt hiked up like
tomorrow they’ll still be the same them under their skin,

about the author

The writer Maggie Chirdo poses in front of vertical blinds. She wears a series of golden necklaces and stares directly at the camera.

Maggie Chirdo (she/her(s)) is a writer from a humid slice of southeast Texas. Her poetry and journalism appears in Texas Observer, Entropy Magazine, Bitch Media, Little Blue Marble, and elsewhere. If Twitter still exists, come chat with her about fashion and the queer southern gothic @maggiechirdo.