The Sweater • Len Kuntz

I am the black
You left behind
On the love seat
Love no longer an option
Love seat

My yarn is tight
Fine Egyptian cotton
Top stitched and fully-fashioned.
Your skin
It used to sit or swish
Inside of me
Against my limbs and lengths
My sleeves and being

You took me places
Folded me
Kept me clean
Now I am a heap of yarn
Dead threads
Smelling of your perfume
But mostly
Reeking rust and


Len Kuntz has published his work in Pank, Boston Literary Magazine, Lower Eastside Review and elsewhere.