Pockets

Today was a great day.
The weather finally gave in,
and I discovered my dress had secret pockets.

I love pockets,
but I don’t use them for storing things.
You won’t find gum, or a phone, or little slips of paper in them.
Instead, I use them for my hands.
It’s like a safe haven,
a small security blanket for the rest of my body.
When I stutter over my words or say something too silly,
I can’t run away and hide,
but I can at least stuff my hands inside.
Or when its cold,
and I forgot to grab gloves,
it provides a little warmth.
Or when I don’t know anyone in the room,
and I’m not feeling quite social,
It balances out my pigeon-toed default stance quite well.
And on occasion they share the space with thoughts
thoughts I don’t have time for but still want to keep for later
I let them slip past my ear,
over my collar bone,
down my arm,
and rest inside
right next to my palm.
That way the next time I’m
embarrassed, cold, or lonely,
I won’t have to pull my hands out empty.
I really love pockets.