I spill coffee every first sip

and when I do, my armpits spiral

like a dizzied child

so I cover my arms with a black sweater

kept around for the chance I’ll need it

and end up picking the fuzz off the still

visible part of my chest,

which is sheer enough to reveal

the bra I chose that morning,

my god,

why do I bother with this nonsense of

a white shirt.