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By ~*Truelies*~ Date: 2001 Nov 25 Comment on this Work [[2001.11.25.14.34.13253]] |
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I tip up the hollowed out stuffed coyote And let its contents fall to the ground - An intricate and complex soup of tacky postcards Flutter to the floor, fragmented by silly souvenires Such as the mini plastic telephone Who's origins I can no longer remember, And the plumeria soap we stole from that hotel room. I scan the postcards for the remains of our travels, Adventures and love, but it's all empty. The faded yellow picture of the neon Pepsi sign No longer brings a smile but a tear. What were you wearing again? It used to be so clear. Was it the blue shirt? The one that you looked yummy in? No wait, that was the day you won the stuffed coyote And went on the fair until we were sick. The memories are fading faster than the pictures, But at least they'll always be there. I stuff them back in there hiding hole, Give it a quick, tearful squeeze, Then put you back on the shelf to fade a little more. |