I’ve been meaning to try on
My pink cashmere sweater.
I wanted to wear it
For Valentine’s Day.

The dawn of that holiday
I remembered my intent:
Grip the plastic that hugs the sweater
And stretch till it relents.

How comfy that sweater was,
It fit perfectly too.
But right then I noticed
A crease in plain view.

Through my long days of waiting,
I was my own defeat.
Too late to wash
So t’was thrown to my bed sheets.