The cloth folds you.
Tucks piercing blue into loops of gray cotton,
Sewed pattern crisscrossed by care,
Saturated with diamonds of rivered memory,
Parallel with barren voided, tearful streams.
I know too well the stitched Os and Xs,
Dyed a fabricated tic-tac-toe of warmth.
But the haunting long embraces,
Threaded with joint adoration
cross my heart with pain
Not the Hershey’s kisses.
chocolate is just too sweet.
The cloth folds me,
As I put away my argyle sweater,
and you, at least for today.
09.22.09
