Hang Loose

Each sweater

dangles merrily in the closet,

without worries,

brushing sleeves.


Some days,

I become envious.

I separate the plastic hangers

that suspend each carefree sweater

to reveal a place

for myself.


Fluffy sleeves

then brush against me, but

I never feel quite

as content as a sweater.


I try often, because I think,

maybe one day,

I’ll get the hang of it.


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