I wore your V-neck sweater underneath my red rain dress. I wore your knee-length socks, the worm elastic snapped back. I wore a hat I think was yours, a folded newspaper captain's crew. I wore a combed-out moustache, saluting all night, I curtsied. What I wore you took off, threads, stitches, the tag we ripped out. I held a match to your face. What things we wear, how hot it is.