Red Like Jam

Red like Jam

Resting casually tonight
across the back of his favourite armchair,
while he gazes into the crackling fire,
we remember that bright October day,
when he bought me on Oxford Street.

"That'll never go out of fashion,
a jumper like that,"
assured the Sales Girl.

And although twenty years of slow unravelling
has left me holey,
and my colour has been blighted
by beer spills and bad washes,
and, like him, I'm now baggy at the waist -

still he clings to me.

Because through every hole
he sees the Sales Girl,
who wore me on cold winter mornings
to go and make the tea.

And then they made love
with me
spilling out between them.