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.