Red's Sweater


An applicative memory

draped limply on a coat hanger

Wrap it around my shoulders and move on

I forget it’s there until I remember

When no other words are processing

I remember.

Compose myself with sips of water

and splashes of reality

Then go back to the moment

and settle down.

Lint balls collect

and I pick them off

I feel liable for losing the little bits left of you

I pocket them and

they begin to collect

like the congealing memoires

I feel guilty about you becoming a memory

You should be more than pieces of lint

collecting in my pocket

I wrap myself up in the smells of every memory

that are fading

day by day

and all I have

is the vague scent of home and

lint balls that reminds me of you.



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