010519

I found the earrings I was wearing when you died.
I’ll never wear them again but
I can’t throw them away.
No, I know. It doesn’t make sense to me either.
You’re right. It is silly.
Even so, back into the silver box they go,
those little onyx harbingers of death,
the pretty pair of witnesses
who watched you take your final breath.
I can’t throw them away but
I’ll never wear them again.

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