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The smell in your sweatshirt

How can I not remember you?

When I think about how your touch felt, I am clueless.

Wondering if it ever gave butterflies to my flowers,

or was it just the feeling of possession.

I wear your sweatshirt now, I feel your smell has gone,

owning it doesn’t feel anything to do with you.

It does keep me warm in the cold,

I wish I could have worn it in places I went with you.

Cried, smashed, smiled showed nothing

but the satisfaction of having you.

Walked away happily, yet my poetry speaks about you.

-©Riya Shah

By Ray


One reply on “The smell in your sweatshirt”

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