we went thrifting and tried on used souls together.
he borrowed mine a few days later.
he had put holes in it and stretched its fibers.
i didn't ask him about his carelessness.
i watched him slowly sew it back together with his gentle fingers and fill the gaping spaces with his touch.
he intertwined threads of lust with patches of embrace.
and when he gave it back, it smelled of light cigarette smoke and fresh laundry.
i haven't taken it off since.