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I asked if she had seen my orange tank top and she said,
No, I haven't, is it in the laundry room?
seeming very concerned about said tank top --
but I knew I would find it weeks later while looking
for bobby pins in her room, there
shoved between her bed and the blue wall,
my orange tank top.
I'd shake it out
and put it on
and swallow my fists
pounding reach from my arms
(walls to thick to smash through)
and pluck one earring from her jewelry box.
Back to my room,
toss it in the trash.
The next day, me in my orange tank top,
she pretending emphatic happiness
at my discovery
and wondering when she'd find her missing earring
and already planning which item of my clothing
would best fit in that now empty spot
between the bed and the blue wall.