I had a job that asked me to take two haircuts
and go shopping for shirts.

I visited the grey mall box store.
I asked for a plain shirt.
More plain than dust,
more flat than sand,
more dull than milk,
obscure as pancake makeup base.

At a pile of rejects,
I found a lack of tint,
like disappearing ink,
like shadows in the corner.
A black hole of color,
it drew vibrancy from all around it.

I keep the shirt to show my soul
what might have been spent
while shopping for shade.

03/12/2013

Author's Note: I kept the shirt.

Posted on 03/12/2013
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