Once there was a tale, told by a pink
sweater.
The one you left in my car on our first date.
The one you wore when our lips combined for the first time and i took it off your body.
The one that scented with your perfume, my favourite scent.
The one you wore when you fell asleep while watching movies in my apartment, and you snored softly and i thought it was the most angelic sound i’ve ever heard.
The sweater told me all the stories when i was with you.
Was, not am.
Because now i’m here, but there’s no you around.
I live my days backward.