What was the point in staring at your photo? What had I to gain from it? Mesmerized and chained to the wall Bent into a crouch by circumstance and the cruel Hand of Fate It was all I had of you A powerful talisman that just as often cursed As blessed For the miles between us were many And the distance even further Even if I could have broken a hole in the separating wall I wouldn't have been able to cross that span I was too weak and still reeling from realizing it But I had that picture A tiny, wrinkled scrap of paper to confirm That the image in my mind was no dream Even as time threatened to convince me Even as time reminded me of change and all it threatened to do The visage trapped in Kodachrome Was immune to it All the while you grew and morphed ever so slightly Into the almost unrecognizable woman I came back to My absence having dragged you down Into an unfamiliar reality you'd never known existed Your fear that everything we'd built together, every dream shared Were for nothing, with nothing to show It may have been a glimpse of the separation Impending while hidden, awaiting the proper moment Just a peek, unbidden, that transformed you Made you even more beautiful, made you all the more dangerous Made you open your eyes to what had to be done The same pool-deep eyes I stared at during that hard time So intent that they seemed to move An optical illusion tricked me into believing Everything would be just fine when we came together again Fooled me into thinking we would ever be the same I had grown to expect the angel Smiling at me from the photo Becoming more beautiful each time I took it from my wallet Farther away every time I stuffed it back in
No longer miles, but years neither of us care to cross anymore No longer distance, but tears that tore us asunder I don't even have the picture anymore, as if I still wanted it As if I could still bear to look at it without shuddering
Wondering how I could ever have thought you were my other half It would only serve to remind me that you were never mine at all And if all I could have of you is this picture No matter that it saved my life I'd rather feed it to the fire
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She had been gone for a couple of months when I found an old shoe box Into which I crammed every letter she wrote me in days apart One for every day of the week, six months worth of reminders She loved me. She missed me. She could not wait until I came home. (Oh, now I chastise myself for not even remembering what her handwriting looked like) I stuck them in that Nike box along with our marriage certificate I drove across town and gave it to her mother She would pass it Along A long regretted final gesture of acceptance Where, hidden in a random envelope that my love would probably never open, I had tucked in the photograph For her to burn