If you die before me
I just might do the laundry
Playing memory matching socks
That warmed with fuzz your chilly toes
Touch the straps that crossed your back
The tops that lit your eyes
Cuts you picked to claim the day
Weaves and prints that drew you in
To linger at a rack or on a page
That heard your voice Oh… I like that….
Or just did the job
Sweats
Worn in
Worn out
Worn anyway
Cloth
I folded a hundred times
That wrapped around you