You have this sweater
you always roll the sleeves up on
when you leave the house
even when it's 28 degrees outside
because you fear the former owner
will recognize her wine stains
splattered across the cream fore arms
Deep dark Jackson *******
splashed and flashed in furious reds
the night when her husband said "drop dead"
she slammed the wedding gift crystal glass
so hard down on the toppling table
it shattered
and the Red Sea parted
the moment her lips did
splashing the suffering secrets of
hours, months, years
across her form arms
and away to the ears
of the man who couldn't listen
the night she rolled up her sleeves
and left.