empty pens
college newspapers
puzzles that we'll never do

silverware
thank-you cards

and a pile of graded papers
to help me remember;

to relish in the proof that
I once worked so hard (for you),
that there was a time I'd give myself
to writing, writing, writing words,
and you'd give yourself to
reading them.

the failure is now to face
my work and art and effort
that so easily came to me when it wasn't me
I was working for.

but it wasn't for you, either;
it was for your love.
but still I never passed.