Your glossy smile
greeted me today
when I pulled open
my desk drawer
with which I opened
a window to my repressed past.
It was the same crooked grin
I had forced myself to forget,
and your perplexed expression
was frozen into the ghost
of time -
today as it had been
yesteryear;
only now I can appreciate you
fully and not resent you
for being there only partially
(something you didn't want to be,
but were because I pushed you away,
then as your image, today.)
These photographs from the past
never agree to get lost.
Odd,
because I have tried hard enough,
over the years,
to lose them,
(Or at least have convinced
myself I have . . .)
I have treated them carelessly,
shoving them away into seldom-opened
suitcases or in dresser
drawers filled with discarded
underwear (all my own, now)
scoring to put them in
anything as neat as an album.
You have been jammed
any-old-how
into an ancient tattered manila
envelope now,
and there you will rest;
waiting for another day when
I think I'm "doing ok"
only to find you and
r e m e m b e r . . .
- Antony
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