Layers

Everything good in my life
you gave to me.
Every treasure I have
came from you.
Every memory
of every wonderful thing
for years and years
is attached to your voice,
emblazoned with your face.

This is why
I have to make
a confession.

I kept something of yours,
a sweater you lent to me once
when I was cold.
You told me to pick
whatever I wanted
out of your closet--
the closet we used to share
in the bedroom that was ours.
I have been forgetting
to return it
ever since.

I wear it
when I’m sad
and I need to feel
close to you.

I was afraid
that if I gave it back
I might never
get to borrow another.

I think
that’s why
I kept it secret.

I didn’t know when
but I knew the day was coming
when I’d be your
acquaintance
and not your heart.

If I’d known then
looking into your closet
how much
this was going to hurt
I would have taken
every last sweater
you had.