PlayClothes
By Jenny Emelander
Well-Manicured aisles of Calvin, Ralph, and Louis,
and me with an empty wallet.
I fish-tail in and out of the cashmere sweaters and sky high stilettos
as white price tags graze my denim tattered thigh.
I feel the five digit numbers playing
chopsticks on my brain.
I always dreamed of wearing a beautiful new gown to my company’s annual party at
the tavern.
Walking slowly on the smoke covered tile carpeted in cigarette butts.
Feeling the cool satin caress my shoulders,
smooth and shiny like a new penny.
I sit inside my metal cubicle and steal a look at my dirty fingernails.
7/1/2011