Old Wool Sweater

In warm tape saturators. From the back of the second shelf. Dust on folded shoulders. Like it's been hiding from itself. Scratchy at my wrists. Neckline slightly frayed. But it holds the shape of you. Like the day you walked away. In your old wool sweater, I feel a warm hug from the past. Your perfume still lingers in the seams that were Built to last. It's scratchy on my skin, But it softens every ache. In your old wool sweater, I wear the love We didn't break. Tiny ghost of perfume. Caught deep in the careful knit. Vanilla and something floral. I breathe slow. I stay in it. The yarn bites at my collar. Itches where my heartbeat drums. But the closer that it clings, The closer it feels you've come. So I keep this wool between us. Though the years are rolling fast. In your old wool sweater, I live inside our Past.