leather

my tired dedication to him

wrapped in soft leather casing

paint chipping off and

that sticker from the farmers market

i have carried my life in this

for at least five years now.

my brother passed it to me

when we still spoke

and it meant something then.

a cycle of losing it and losing him and

always coming back to one another

all my cards still in tact.

i followed him and it followed me

to somewhere made for leaving

and then we were quiet.

this reminder of the coldest months

of his smile and his guitar and

a shared interest in pain

the overgrown graveyard

mold and a well picked scab

must be laid to rest.

i have been shown a love so tender

in the form of a firmer thing

nicer quality, sharper edges

a fresh start somewhere warm.

this extension of him,

(faded, wrinkled, tearing)

set in a trashcan

eight minutes from my apartment

in a state he's never seen.

five years, one fourth of my life,

carrying the weight of my brother

in my back pocket