I laugh at the belts:
two lines of blue,
no difference to me.
You say it matters—
you say it has always mattered,
from gowns to racks,
from morning to the corner shop.
We are already wearing it,
though I thought I stood apart.
They chose it before us,
and now the choice
is pressed into my hands.
I will not laugh tomorrow
but lift the belt up to light
perhaps, then, I will see
how minutiae
carry the weight of a world.
.