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Ode to my leggings
I bought myself a pair of
leggings
which is fluffy puffy inside
with wool overload,
the leggings as thick
as dictionaries.
I slipped my legs
into them
as though into
two
cylinders
knitted
with threads of
twilight
and goatskin.
Violent leggings,
my legs were
two sausages made
of heat,
all black:
my legs were honored
in this way
by these normal
leggings.
They were
so cool
for the first time
my legs seemed to me
unbelievable
like two well-done
sausage, or at least
medium
of that oven
heat,
of those glowing
leggings.
Nevertheless,
I resisted
the sharp temptation
to store them in the closet
as schoolgirls
not cover their body,
as learned people
keep
warm for themselves,
I resisted
the popular style
to not wear them
underneath
dresses
and have bare legs
shown.
Like hikers
on the ground,
not on the mountains,
who hand
over the well-prepared oxygen jar
to some imprudent and reckless
“self-called experienced” people
And let them breathe it
Reluctantly.
I stretched out
my legs
and put on
the magnificent
leggings
and then my socks.
The moral
of my ode is this:
warm is twice
warm
and what is good is doubly
good
when it is a matter of a pair of thick leggings
made of wool
in winter.
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This winter in Asheville has been unusually cold!!! Just wanna write a random piece about how my fluffy leggings keep me warm.