a box of rosepetals to throw at your feet when i regain the strength to
confront you. a basket of that sacred fruit to share with you when the
short evenings of autumn arrive. so many emotions remind me of the turn we
took down the beaten path of heartbreak. my anguish will extinguish your
leftovers if you ever had any. now i keep the pictures in a bare box,
scattered amidst my other memories.