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
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