And I walked so proudly
in my celery-hued suit,
handmade, and so carefully,
stitch by stitch by steady stitch,
down to its A-line skirt.

Yes, I walked proudly
to church then home again,
alone, but for one friend:
my living latex underling,
the Playtex living underthing,
that choked my pubescent thighs
with my passionate permission
to a meek yet firm submission.

Mimicking the flawless fawns
I’d seen in "Seventeen",
I was but thirteen, and yet
was vying with my close companion,
my Goodyear support system,
for my each and every breath.

I didn’t know that I was beautiful…
so ripe, so sensual….and so
alive!
within my blooming hips and thighs;
I didn’t know I…..could
be
beautiful
without compression!