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Fat Pants

A humble ode to the most well-loved piece of clothing in my wardrobe.

By Suze KayPublished 4 months ago Updated 4 months ago 1 min read
Fat Pants
Photo by Frank Flores on Unsplash

How lovely it is to be forgiven,

cradled. When I feel like bursting at the seams,

make them elastic.


I want them natural, meltless in the hot breath of the kiln.

I want them draping the shelf of my ass, the spread of my thigh.

I want me in them: I want the give and the swell, I want it all.


I’m the woman. I bloat and shrivel, I wax

and wane with the moon. Give me a wide berth

and positive ease and pockets, give it all.


Three days on, then hang them on the line. I no longer fear

the late-night grocery run, the lazy Sunday, the patched knee:

Wherever I go, there I am.

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About the Creator

Suze Kay

Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.

Catch me here for spooky stories, crushable poems, and overall weird thoughts.

Or, let me catch you on my website!

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Comments (3)

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  • ThatWriterWoman4 months ago

    YEEEES! YES to all of this! I love my elastic pants!

  • Naomi Gold4 months ago

    Oh my goodness, great minds and all that… I’ve been telling people my plan to write about my menstrual cycle jeans for this challenge, LOL. I enjoyed your take on it.

  • Poppy4 months ago

    Your poems are always a perfect mix of relatable reality and beautiful prose. This line was my favourite, 'I wax and wane with the moon.'

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