I still have that old t-shirt
you know
the ones we spent hours on
that summer afternoon
puff-painting
exactly the way
we pleased

wore them
as we tried to pull off
all-nighters in order to
have enough time
to share secrets
even though neither of us
had anything
to confess

slept
in the familiar tent
pitched
in your backyard
as we layed flat on the ground
side by side
to spot matching constellations
through the opaque
ceiling

I’ve grown out
of it now
and it has tears
and see through spots
from years of being loved
and I know you probably threw yours
away long ago
but mine’s been tucked in
the back of my drawer
just in case