Sleeves Over My Hands

I pull the cotton past my fingers

Until the world looks smaller

Mom calls from the hallway

I answer with my shoulders

There are feelings in the seams

I won’t let touch the light

Small storms folded neatly

Where nobody checks twice

Don’t look too close

I might turn clear

I keep my hands covered

So my heart can stay here

The sweater hangs too long

Like it knows what to hide

I wave at my reflection

With no skin in sight

If I seem quiet

Let me be quiet

Some names bruise faster

When spoken out loud

I am not trying to vanish

I am trying not to spill

There’s a whole room inside me

Keeping very still

Don’t ask for my outline

Before I can stand

I hold myself gently

With cloth over my hands