I saw you walking slowly
the torn sleeve
your face almost happy
despite
the torn sleeve

“Where are you going?” I asked you. “Why are you so happy?
Your eyes should be bleeding
and your heart shattering.

He didn’t answer but smiled at me and
I touched your blue wool jacket
with the torn sleeve
and it was almost like touching the void.

“Don’t go,”
I said, crying.
You shook your head.
“You can’t, love,”
you said.
“The torn sleeve
is for me.”
(difficult time)