yellowishing

I want a red dress. 
I want it flimsy and cheap, 
I want it too tight, I want to wear it 
until someone tears it off me. 
s, 
this dress, so no one has to gu
I want it sleeveless and backle
sess 
what's underneath. I want to walk down
ore 
with all those keys glittering in the window
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware s
t, 
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old 
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers 
ders. 
I want to walk like I'm the only 
woman on
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, 
hoisting the slick snouts over their shou
l earth and I can have my pick. 
I want that red dress bad. 
worst fears about me,
I want it to confirm  your
  
nt 
from its hanger like I'm choosing a 
to show you how little I care about you  or anything except what  I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garm
ebody  to carry me into this world, through  the birth-cries and the love-cries too,  and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,  

it'll be the dress they bury me in.