December 16, 2010
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Boxes, boxes, little squares
My forgotten lore
Sit there, filled with the
Touchables of my life
Touchables that hurt to hold
Any closer than my fingertips
Any farther than my shelves
Any longer than the fond fingering
Of a dog-eared corner
Touchables that were things
Someone else's things
Someones else's photos
Someone else's life
And because they were held
Closer, familiarly by
A sweet someone
Who enjoyed forgotten lore
Now they're worthy, special
Bittersweet enough to be held by me

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