all the words
i never said
i've packed into
a brown bag,
and set it aside
on the kitchen
counter. all
the kisses that
we never shared
are in boxes on
the floor near
the door, awaiting
pickup. all the
letters never
sent are in the
hall, in a drawer
beside the fresh
cut key you never
took. all the sundays,
all the holidays
that never happened,
all the nights
you never slept here,
all the mornings that
we never made love
are on ice, in
the fridge, stored
away, just in case.
just in case.
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