Brooklyn sweater

The night after my second miscarriage
I laid wrapped up in my loves arms wearing my ex’s Brooklyn sweater
He is married now, was then
My ex that is

My love, I am no longer wrapped up in
Work in his loft most days
Build dreams together
Met his father last week
Saw his baby pictures
His father asked “you like my son? You know you are both different? The same, but for his good you gotta dig deep”
I said: I know, I’ve been digging for a minute, in the hopes that he respects the hustle

We don’t talk about the future of us
Still don’t have a key but it means something that he is building a future tailored to fit me
He tries to remember the things that are important to me
And I stress him less
Don’t talk about shit that don’t matter
Unless it’s Sunday
Sunday is the day we play
Have brunch with 30 of our newest friends and laugh
I’m still rocking that Brooklyn sweater but I sleep mostly alone
Need the whole of this bed
To keep me warm


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