there is a store
you usually buy hunting things at
and on our hands and knees
we released ourselves into the clothing section
to collect the sizing tags
that had fallen off the hangers

handfuls of colorful cylinders
plastic and worthless
filling our pockets 
to the brim

you suddenly told us
about how the X and L 
stood for 'extra' and 'love'
and that we needed to collect more

I asked you why,
and you told me
that they needed to go into nana's coffin
so that she knew we were thinking of her
when we went and crawled under the aisles
of clothes 
in the sporting goods store

'nana needs extra extra love'
you said, and we went 
without a moment's hesitation

to tear the remaining labels off of the hangers
in the aisle 
of extra-extra-large rainjackets

my fingertips were sore by the end of it
raw and bleeding under my nails
with how many plastic circles we had tugged 
away from their metal grip

but it was so worth it
by the end
to see the carefully placed row 
of colorful plastic messages
lined up neatly
beside nana's fingers

each one blessed
with extra-extra-love
and a small kiss
from you