an excusable mix up

as the return line

edges

forward

at the lingerie store,

snaking out the door,

i hold

the light boxes,

and the receipts in my hand.

how could i

get the wrong

sizes again,

i look at the tattered list

of names.

medium

small

and large, Lisa, Donna,

Joanne.

in my mind,

it's an excusable

mix-up 

once more.