I remember getting home from Christmas shopping.
I had just bought a lovely sweater for you,
when you called that afternoon and we spoke.
“We should stop seeing each other. It just seems
we don’t fit together all that well.”, you said.

And you were probably right about that.
But I occasionally think about that fucking sweater,
and still wonder if I had bought you the right size.
I’m sure it would have looked nice on you for a while.