Through Fishnets

I walk forward,

'nets gripping my thighs

and goosebumps raining from my arms

while warmth spreads through my body,

shedding the chill

as if by magic.

Silk and buttons and pretend lace,

cheap boots,

expensive lipstick,

a night out

with confidence by my side.

There's a laugh here too;

it keeps echoing across the bare valleys of my collarbones

and finding its way to my ears.

I resist the urge to turn and share.

Instead,

I smile, taking half-part,

saving a few for a rainier,

colder day.

A shoulder bump,

warm skin brushing against thin cloth,

pulling away from the wrong

and inventing the right;

stepping to the left

and creating space,

solidifying the distance.

I walk forward,

'nets gripping my thighs,

holding onto my skirt

and letting that chill back in,

discarding the easy warmth.

I walk forward,

giving it up,

giving it away,

shedding the feeling,

shedding the idea of it

as if by magic.

Fishnets,

holes,

spaces,

filled

by warm magic.