I found a box in the attic
blanketed in dust
that had not been disturbed
in years.
The box contained our smiles,
back when they were together,
back when our agreement against
itchy velvet
was what mattered most.
The box contained our friendship
before it was mandatory.
I found a box in the attic
full of us
blanketed in dust,
untouched.
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PoetryA collection of poetry that has been in the works for a few years, and is likely to continue growing and changing.
