How can I part with my old concert t-shirts? An exercise in alliteration
My Old T-Shirts
Like a second skin
In the summer,
Sticking with the sweet sweat,
Of scintillate perspiration.
And cooling the heated epidermis.
Like a layer of life
In the winter,
Languidly lounging amongst layers
Of conflagrant insulation.
Yet ably warming the shivering self within.
Like a memory
In years gone by,
Masking the melodramatic mime
Of melancholy materialism.
Teasing, the twitters, tatters of dorsal terrain.
Like a shielding coat of armor
In the battlefield of fashion,
Projecting a portraiture of poetry,
Punctuating periods of productive purpose.
Perhaps, peddling provocation for further pondering.
It’s difficult for me to part with my old t-shirts.
There’s too much of me in them.
If I clean out my closet,
Will I lose the memories?