The Cardigan

I search beneath the oppressive heavy lid of my trunk.
I see the sleeve poking out towards the bottom,
waving for surrender.

I offer it my hand and pull.
I hold it for a moment, regarding it like a forgotten friend; a stranger.
There is little resistance as I slip it on.

The smell of you is overpowering.

A flash of white teeth and rosy lips, brown scruffy hair.
I feel your arms around me; your warm breath tickles the back of my neck
 as your beautiful mouth whispers things to me.
I remember when we ran through the snow
holding hands,
your laughter echoing for only us to hear.
You put your cardigan round my shoulders, and rubbed my arms
This will keep you warm.

I remember the fights, the tears;
the anger scrunching up your handsome face.
The words that you could never take back resonate through my head.
I remember when you left.
I take it off slowly,
fold it neatly.
Stare at it.

I return it to the trunk,
and close the lid.

I want to forget you, 
but I can't just yet.