the sweater

the seams
have split, the buttons
dangle
from the old sweater,
oatmeal in color,
a braided thing
with coffee
stains,
moth
bitten,
stretched out of shape
from being hung
on a cold black hanger
in the closet.
still,
you try it on,
button it up.
in the pocket is his
lighter. silver,
a blue flame when struck.
a pack of lucky strikes.
a ticket torn
in half, another
bet lost.