the picture was pixelated
you told me
it didn't print the way you
wanted it to
wasn't fully in focus
--I guess in retrospect
it's fitting--
but I wanted you to go back
and reprint it
I was afraid you'd just
throw it away
I was afraid you'd never
frame it
afraid you'd never
place it at your bedside
afraid you would never
let it be as beautiful as
we both knew
that picture was

you didn't reprint it
it was stuck being blurred
said you didn't mind
and you still framed it
you still placed it there
by your bedside
seems ironic now
with both picture and
frame broken
tucked under
some box in a closet
that I was the one
who was afraid