Two pairs of socks lay in the box
One pair lace and yellow
That belonged to a duchess
The other pair white with blue birds
That belonged to her cousin

Beside them is a black phone in a sparkly case
That I took from a girl begging her father for a pony
Orange lengths of fabric make ripples beneath the sparkles
They used to belong to rich seamstresses
But they now belong in my little, floral box

There is a faded photograph of a man I never knew
I took it from a woman busy reading the news
I also have 7 pocket squares
And 7 different buttons, from the tops of jackets
Who's owners stayed the night with my matron

I had to clean the floors before each of them woke
Or else she would remind me of how expensive I am to feed
Or how useless a girl can really be
When her mother dies and leaves her to a father
Too drunk to know he has a daughter at all

I have new stamps meant to travel to different countries
I dream endlessly of seeing
And long cigarettes meant to be burned and covered in lipstick
And, my favorite, the caps from 2 Jones Sodas
I once watched laughing lovers share by the shore

I have a pink kiss on a fading napkin
That was never meant for me
And under that, a bottle of red nail polish
Which I'd never apply to my own nails
For fear of my matron noticing

All of these things needed a better home
So I hide them in the box she gave me
After an evening she spent drinking too much chardonnay

Other than my name,
This box is the only thing I've ever been given