Poetry Monday: Second-Hand

It’s not that I didn’t like the shirt
Just,
It’s not something I would have bought for myself
But that wasn’t as important as
Knowing that you’d found it for me
that you were thinking of me
(though God only knows what you were thinking)
and I would wear it
with and without you
so you would know I was,
at least
thinking of you thinking of me

I could never get rid of it
and I hauled it from house to house
When we’d pull it out of the box, we’d think of it again
and of each other

But it hasn’t been worn for four years, now
Like everything else,
It’s time to find it a new home

And a new life
New thoughts to be thought about it
Until it’s too heavy to rest on one’s shoulders
Without dragging them to the dirt.

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