When I arrived at that long winter,
I was coatless,
So I borrowed yours.
Maybe that was my subconscious plan
All along.
I put it on,
And
Wore it around like
An
Over-sized trench coat with a few
Stains around the collar.
I even took it in a bit, so it would fit better.
Each day,
I became a tailor, and a dry cleaner, and
A saint.
In time,
I got the stains out β
They were surface ones, but
The size was still a problem.
I’m no seamstress, and I was losing weight
All the time β
What with the sheer workout of
Lugging the thing
Around on my back all day long.
When we were finally both in
The best shape
We could be in,
I knew for sure
It would never fit.
I had tried to make something mine that wasn’t.
Subconsciously again?
I started tugging at some of the new threads,
Making a frayed mess of the thing.
Until, all that was left to do was
Throw it to the wind, and run
For warmth.