Fitting

The long awaited package

Finally arrives,

But my plump curvy shape

Doesn’t fit the fuzzy fabric.

Is it the box I fit?

The one that I hide inside,

Where my shapely thighs sigh

Into oversized sweatpants?

What about the hoodies,

That cover my booty,

Like a baker covers bread?

Are these the sheets

I use to suffocate,

My living ghost?

How do I fit,

When I don’t dress,

Me?