There are certain clothes that in wearing them I am ready to do different things. I have on an old woollen jumper that still smells of the sheep it nuded (it occurs to me now it has probably been washed only once, if at all) and when I wear it I can make a sketch and think to myself a few things about the human form, some twists anatomy makes so that an arm looks like a bunched scarf or a leg the backside of a favourite leather couch that sags now in its middle but you would never throw away because it was there your whole growing up’s worth, you did your homework here and lost a small bit of your virginity, small because before your ridged inside spread for that singular entry you heard who, on the stairs? Which sibling? And you pushed his half-inch out of you to go stand soundless in the hall and thought I do not care for him so much anyway tonight with his low slung arms and that prickle like fur around your womb an instant touch of cruelty. How could you not fall someway t’ward such a thing in its pain coming forth like a tongue to push down on your apple-sized womb and your ovaries too were shifted all for that movement of his arm against you, like a swing half-way swung after it’s been abandoned jumped from leapt from, it still carries some gust from the child who rode it (or not a child, you yourself still sometimes swing at your grandmother’s house - the tire that no one ever took down) and you felt there his hairs thin as yours and thought is it all accident, this touch? Anyone would lean into the heat of such a thing such wonderful pain and think it meant that sort of night was rising to precede long walks the next day to clear it away because you cannot think your own feelings in that house the house where you are now thinking No, best keep him out of me. Having felt the lip of his helmet ripple like a forced ledge as into you it squeezed is enough now to think about, enough to make a kind of love to once you’ve watched him scale the garden’s final gate. Who even dances anymore is, technically, the last thing he’ll ever have said to you.