You ask me why I'm reluctant to give you your shirt back.
I smile, "it's mine, I claim it!" I bury my face to hide reddening cheeks.
Truth be told, that shirt is evidence that you've been here before.
That shirt is proof that I found perfection.
Proof beyond doubt that I'm not dreaming.
So when you're gone, I'll smell you in the threads.
And in those threads there is hope.
Hope that my eternity has your name on!