There is magic in her eyes
They dance like glittering fires
And burn with happiness
Or in sadness, they still shine,
Like lamplight in the rain.
I add her things to my collection.
The broken things lay on my bedroom floor
And I watch over them jealously.
They are memories
Letters and gifts from old girlfriends,
My grandfather’s driver’s license,
My cat’s collar.
All the items from loved ones now gone,
Left me, dead, gone.
I look over my horde, but they are no help,
they weigh on me
like stones in my heart.