Machine-Wash Only Jessica Jenkins Your sweatshirt, I slept in it I’m giving it back Not because it’s yours But because it’s a part of me I cried in it A part of me died in it It smelled of you And that God-awful cologne It triggered something inside of me That I’ll never understand Something about My arms and my chest Being where yours once were My heart drumming against the fabric Like yours did It tore me apart. Your sweatshirt, I wept in it I’m giving it back So maybe you’ll sleep in it And think of me And how we can never be, In the fabric, every thread A murmur of cinema dates And drinking vodka straight At 2AM in the streets But how we can never Be together, in bed Or the backseat of the car With the music loud And our thoughts on hold The smell of leather, petrol And Coca-Cola.
182
*
