Plaid Shirt

Hanging on a chair,

forgotten,

yet untouched and drowned in loneliness.

 

Now and then,

my eyes would like to roam themselves,

so I can look at the fabric,

enveloped with new stories.

 

My fingers, tasting every detail,

every warmth..

 

Now I let my arms slip in the sleeves of my plaid shirt,

I let my mind drift to my fingers,

touching the buttons they like to play with.

 

I roll down my sleeves,

to feel every warmth,

to feel safe..

 

 

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