pretend comfort
from a soft piece of clothing
your
scent still lingers.
sleeves too long,
and not pulled up (the way you used to),
I wrap them around me,
make believe your arms are inside.
illusions turning to memories
of softly whispered words
or no words at all;
those, the most honest,
still fleeting.
I won’t watch when
you walk away
but
I am keeping your shirt.


Getting really close to 18,000.










20 old applause
