I’m hanging here

to remind you

of the you

you once were

(of a fashion)

and a time

you once fitted

like a glove

as you flitted

here and there

happy in the thought

that you were

going somewhere.

 

Leopard print or leather

all the buttons that you never

sewed back on

nest

in the linings of those pockets

amid the lipsticks and the tissues

the ghosts of long gone issues

paper poem vestiges

of words you laid to rest.

 

I’m hanging here

like skin on a peg

to remind you

of all that you shed

the life you outgrew

the after pain of memory

as you adapt to the new.