- Vol. 01
- Chapter 08
Image by Jenni Fagan
Had I Known
Had I known how quickly dreams could riseand the bittersweet touches, scents and sights
you hid inside. You lied. You kept
those trinket-whispers safe. And so
here I sit, half drunk with hope -
reciting rhymes we read and wrote,
my fingers clutch at scattered tears
which you once laid around my throat.
I tried to catch your dreams but they rose
too fast, so with the last of our waning wax
I will seal it back up and swear
I never opened your trunkful of memories.