Cashmere, my Dear

cashmere’s cajole and touch
like my lady’s myriad
layers

stuffed ‘tween neck bruise
and bruising bite of
biting winters,

tucked down collar into
damps of dollar
store socks,

they’re really not
that bad, you
know..

can’t even talk without
my collar popped,

and can’t face the storm
without a kiss from
her cloth.

image: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/man-in-orange-scarf-detail-tim-nyberg.html

image: https://www.peterawagnerphotography.com/p815295627/h3C96DC78

One thought on “Cashmere, my Dear

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.