Ode to the Pant

You always come in pairs, like two Siamese sisters joined at the seam I zip you, button you, steam you and press you, You help me impress, project power, while you protect me like an early Scythian woman riding wildly across the Asian Steppe on a stallion. You pack so easily, like a comfortable second skin always there for me to slip into in a flash High waisted, low waisted, cropped, skinny or wide, You always creep up on me at the wrong moments, but I love you all the more.