The other day I used a word you taught me --
Something only we said in our little language
And recently, I thought of the bus stop
where you used to drop me
after our weekends together.
Sometimes it's the smell of the kitchen
when you made your signature chicken
Or the way your fingers reached out for mine
before we crossed the road.
There's this t-shirt of yours I still wear at night
And a ticket stub from a movie we enjoyed.
I allow myself to dwell
on these metaphorical sticky notes
of a long closed chapter,
how hard it was to shut that book.
I think of the box in which I keep
all my broken jewellery --
earrings that have lost their pairs,
beads from necklaces that fell apart.
It's safe to keep you in there
To remind myself of all I've lost,
Of all that was once beautiful.
Poetry by Purple Puddles
Read 289 times
Written on 2021-01-14 at 07:51
Tags Nostalgia  Reminders
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