Your Sweater

You gave it to me this summer.
It was one I had always admired.
But I love it all the more because it smells just like you.
Soap, pine needles, lemons--I swear! And just your wonderful, manly smell.
I used to make fun of girls in the place I am now.
I truly hope you won't be cold now without your hoodie!
But neither will I,
I who always snuggles up next to you to steal your body heat.
Now, you're so close.
Close enough to touch--
But I can't. It is forbidden.
So guess what I'm cuddling instead.
Now my teddy bear smells like you.
Wishing this scrap of fabric was you.
Treating it as a holy shroud.
Adding it to the shrine beneath my pillow, next to your picture.
Waiting for the day my pillow becomes your chest,
And it's case a t-shirt advertising the summer camp where we first met.
The images under my pillow, and the ones I see when I close my eyes, I would trade to see your face when I open my eyes.
13 days more, I've been told.
Too short and too long of a wait...
13 days without your sweater, for you.
But soon, we will be together.
And we can share a blanket.





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