The Scarf
Mr . Barnett
This isn ’ t the first thing I ’ ve lost , the first time I ’ ve come up empty , but it is the first time I ’ m looking you in the eye to tell you . Dear J , I need to tell you I ’ ve lost the scarf I asked you to knit for me . The truth is I ’ ve been losing things forever : pens , poems , people . Dear J , this isn ’ t the first thing missing from my neck : shirts , hoodies , teeth deeply rooted . Can you know it ’ s November by the wind alone ? My neck knows , the same way my hands know weight when it ’ s lifted , or my head knows hair when it thins , or my heart knows trust when someone ’ s broken it . Dear J , the truth is I ’ ve never won a game of battleship , all my life firing shots that find an empty sea — I know what it ’ s like to look someone in the eye and still never find them . Dear J , a loss is what you gain when something goes missing , so I am not empty . I have a missing scarf , and I have the word “ sorry ” stuck in and around my neck , and I have a grid of misses and misfires sprawling back years and years . You are only the latest let down . My latest apology . I am so full of them . This one is for you . Tie it around your neck . Let it keep you warm .
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