When did you last open
That draw?
You know, the one we all have.
In the kitchen, living room
Parlour, boudoir.
The one with everything in it.

From old candles that sing
Of happy birthdays,
An errant piece of icing
Clinging on. Like the memory.

There’s an old ring or two,
Trinkets from a long ago fair.
White rides brought giddiness
And love.

Digging deeper there’s an old gift tag,
“For you my forever love”,
A valentine of yesteryear,
Yellowed and battered,
Lost and lonely.

Then deeper still, a memory stirs,
At the sight of your empty perfume bottle.
My eyes mist. Unstoppered,
I try to recapture that scent
that drove me wild.
Faded into nothingness,
It’s empty air and memories.

Your Sunglasses, with summer memories,
Sit so far back that I can’t see your face
Or you sunlit smile, that made my heart melt,
As we walked deserted beaches and rivers.

Spare buttons from your favourite dress
Still in their yellowing plastic bag,
Stuffed in a far corner.
Their colour faded.
I wonder what became of that dress?

Silently I place it all back,
I can’t bare to do it,
Like betrayal of you,
It would pierce my heart.

So the draw silently closes.
I put the memories back too,
walk back to where you once were.
To be alone in my sadness.

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