it all makes sense

i look at my thirty

seven

pairs of shoes,

cheap shoes,

expensive shoes.

grey, brown, black.

athletic

shoes.

dress shoes,

sandals,

slip ons, boots,

all lined up

in neat rows at the bottom

of my closet,

then i think about

when i was a young child,

how i used to cut

cardboard circles

from a box

and stuff them into

the bottom of my

shoes

when i wore holes

into them

eventually there were holes

in my socks,

blisters and callouses

on my feet.

it all makes sense.