Backless blue

Sticking out from a bin, half-seen,

in the alley, by a rusted fence.

That pale, unflattering, tired sheen,

of cotton, with no pretense.

The flimsy ties, undone, unbound,

flapping, a pale blue flag.

A body once, within it found,

now just a discarded rag.

So thin, so open to the air,

a uniform of forced surrender.

A brief, cold claim, a chilling stare,

a vulnerability, raw and tender.