“PPE”

When the virus hit
I went online and bought gloves
masks, soaps, sanitizers,
wigs, skirts, and a spandex catsuit.

Looped around my ears,
the surgical mask covered my jawline
blue tarped over the natural disaster of stubble.

Pressed against my nose
it trapped my breath against me
soaked me in the reminder
of my stubbornly working lungs.

Watching people in hazmat suits
on TV, with face shields,
I marveled at their bodies
draped in antiseptic modesty.

They could be anyone under there.