T-Shirt

I caught a glimpse of your T-shirt on the bedroom floor last night. The cotton white fabric was wrinkled, flawed, but I could still see you in it, and the thought gave me pause. I bent over to pick up some insignificant something or other when it caught my eye, and I just stopped…
Picked it up.
Held it up to my face.
And on the inhale flowed your scent
Your cologne
Your natural tang
And I crumbled, wanting to be holding you in my arms and not this flimsy cotton shirt. So I slipped out of my jeans and pulled off my shirt, my hand catching the light switch on the way down. And I oh-so-slowly pulled on your T-shirt, feeling the fabric warp around my legs, and I crawled
Edged
Inched into bed and I stopped…
Breathed in
And your scent met my nose again on another long inhale
And I fell asleep
Holding myself
Wearing your T-shirt