Lint Ball

it is little, this memory like the lint balled up inside the pocket of my favorite denium jacket I roll it between my fingers and desperatly search for it when i am nervous and it stays in the deepest fold all summer long until the fall comes and i take out my denium jacket again it is always in the fall i remember perhaps it is the beginning of the school year or the cool breeze that reminds me to think of you or the little lint ball like a string around my finger like a rope around my heart