I
don’t know
why
I keep
the
ribbon
tied
around
yesterday.
Faded
ink
with
random
tenderness
lies
in a box
of
barely
remembered.
First
love
is
as much
about
endings
as
it is about
beginnings.
Crumbled
among
the
envelopes
are
pieces
of
what
could
have
been.
If
nothing else,
the
yellowed
stationary
reminds
me
goodbye
saved
me
from
getting
what
I wished.
©Susie
Clevenger 2013
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