You know the parlor trick.
Warp your arms around your own body
and from the back it looks like someone is embracing you,
her hands grasping your shirt,
her fingernails teasing your neck.
From the front is another story.
You never looked so alone,
your crossed elbows and screwy grin.
you could be waiting for a tailor
to fit you for a straitjacket,
one that would hold you really tight.