PoetryAloud

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Debbie Strange Reads

folding

the faded pink sweater still hangs
by the unravelled threads
of her life
from the broken hook
of my heart

edges worn thin and frayed
warp and weft remember
the shape of her body
but never
the scent of her skin

buttonless now
seams gaping as wide as grief
i fold into her
fingering the torn pocket for shreds of comfort
from the last crumpled tissue

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