The chair still held the way you sat
The sleeve curled in like it knew that
I’d come to find what stayed behind
In woolen threads we used to bind
Your sweater was still there, not warm
But it recalled your quiet form
I touched the cuff like it could speak
Of all the things you didn’t seek
That cotton carried silent weight
Of everything we left too late
I folded it with two slow hands
Like ending songs with no commands
It smelled like you but faint and shy
A whisper stitched where love went dry