My green shirt

My green shirt
won’t stop attacking me.
The long sleeves escape my arms
and head for my neck
so I step to the side
where the green shirt prepares
to cover my eyes.
I duck and I dive,
but the green shirt is too fast.
It sticks to my skin
like velcro
that hooks
and unhooks
at its whim.
My pale skin
half-exposed,
other colors
watching from the side,
the green shirt and I battle,
but I can’t win,
it’s useless to try.

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