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2021-10-21T16:44:17-07:00October 6th, 2011|Musings on life|

Fall sweater

You smell of beach fire.
I slide my neck and arms into you,
the season of wool.
You are just scratchy enough
to make me feel sentimental.
A torrent of memories
of first days of school,
teenage kisses in a park,
that time I slept
under a sky that never darkened.
I belong inside
your bulk.
The wispiness of summer
always leaves me feeling
underprepared.
I am a turtle
in the cold wind,
happily crammed back inside
its shell.

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