I have but three small images of you
(Besides the one buried deep in my mind)
Two of the photos you gave to me once
And one you’d never guess I might find.

Those photos, tucked away for me alone
Give me hints about who you were then
And how you view your life right now
I think often about what might have been.

When you were such a young and serious man
Could I have made you laugh once in awhile?
I know I would have fallen for you even back then
And skipped twenty-some years of living in denial.

And then there you are again at…maybe 32?
Mischievous eyes masking a soul easily hurt
Would I have used a dozen or more excuses
To pass by your office with intention to flirt?

I study the last image far more than the other two
It’s fairly recent, I’m sure, and it makes me want you
I wonder who had you smiling like that
I want the chance to have that effect on you.

Then there’s that memory that I hold close inside
Unlike the others, it can’t fade, because I keep it alive
With a lifetime imagined as if it had come true
Filling in those decades among three images of you.