This Remains

This is the wedding band I would give to you, if you were mine.

Fourteen dollars at a consignment store,

at a glance sparse,

kind of like you.

Sockets that once held jewels span three quarters around the perimeter,

encircled by dots that give the illusion of sad,

colorless,

lifeless daisies.

Still, one jewel remains,

toward the end, not the center,

just as my hope for us remains in the dark depths of my heart and far in the future.

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It was an utter impulse purchase,

made because I didn’t like the felling of my empty left hand.

Kind of like meeting you,

a jump made because I didn’t like the feeling of my empty insides

and hoped that you would fill them.

You and I fit so nicely,

bold, thoughtful skepticism and thoughtful, fearful faith.

 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up before my heart breaks.

The antiquated splendor has been replaced by cold white walls,

but the river we walked by still flows.

The jewels have been displaced, but a sparkle among dead daisies remains.

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