Aly Vander Hayden


What it’s like

given a purpose

spandex over damp regions


in the form of support

to make one’s stance better

now bent down

with a straight back


I am holding myself

through way of layers

immaculate square footage

as to expose this as

the money they’re making

sleeveless design I feel

good about

the places they agitate

practice of apparel

I ready

the delight

fold by fold

where solid answer is given

in the dressing room

unminded exposure

both parties

and disappointment over

an ill-fitting top

what event

defines the weeks leading

how we

cannot keep

a thing

to oneself

an empty Evian bottle

incessant bleating


These bodies are nothing


a hem raised

in the company of other women

I suppose

a new regime

ways to share their confidence


their comfort and safety



subsides the addition

stimulating some market

bright lights, big

department store

it’s an energy

of dress


to soften the blow

I take part

national pastimes

Visa, MasterCard, American Express

wool against

the skin indoors

I touch

a reassuring voice

on the other side

of the curtain


There is a sense

of possibility

with the purchase

emerging our bodies

in jersey, cotton

visible forms

the flawless fit

between us girls

the dress

is entrusted

given itself to

be lived

through continuity

knitted threads

colors of flesh

folding and


in time

it’s creation

without stages

just odd moments

a skirt

a gown

a pullover

the beauty

of a crease

where it should not be

so I fashion myself

in this

lime green, strapless

it’s how

I’m seen

Crystal Light

at the pool


all my friends


and strawberry-kiwi


To reach her

I get another

one of myself

this time more

relaxed posture

an ease of achievability

from the neck up

it’s quite simple, see

just your little


a world opens

to the places

my slingbacks take me

welcoming and

bloody like I’ve always

supposed to have been there

like they

were made for me

and the site of wounding

invites us

doing our part since we do

we do need it

fluttering fabric between my thighs

this is what

heaven feels like this

is where everything starts

a piece that is passed down

telling us stories more

than a mother

she is more than

my mother’s mother

thinking the same way and

tied at the waist