Because It Makes Me Ha—

Because it makes me hapless
cradling it in an elbow
fearing wrinkles, fearing tears

who knew organza to be such weight,
so much anxiety tugging at the threads
of what should be sheer shining pleasure –

how it makes me hasten
to drape it properly across an uncrowded chair
before I accept your invitation

to shimmy and slide across the floor
and then, drenched in sweat,
to reach for the wrap and then hesitate

because, once worn, it cannot remain perfect
but, unworn, it is not yet mine.