Drug

In the fabric of your woollen sweater,

I hide my tears and days I spent alone.

You’ll laugh and tease: “It’s just the weather,

Don’t worry, dear, I’ll soon be home!”

 

The fabric smells of cinnamon and leather,

Your favourite flavour of a candy cone.

I breathed it in, repeating: “We’re together.

It’s just a withdrawal syndrome.”

 

via Daily Prompt: Fabric

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