Ode to My Drawer’s Drawers

Oh you, gentle drawer.
Caught with your pants down again, someone peering into your host
of hoard.

I’ve found the pile of photographs, each snippet of life
shaded with perfect light, or candid 5×7
waking the worst of sorrow and sleep and sweet painful singing

from me.

I’ve found the green notebook, giving life
of lingering wishes, and narrations of new
intimate declarations unpacked

in its spine.

Do you not see the undeveloped film? The wonders
in your cave?
Are the feelings found in the flurry of fever
at being discovered again?

Do not tempt me, gentle drawer,
Your wares are meant to be encased inside
Your ravages each their crystal showcase

unlocking my cry.

I’ve found her here, her jeweled necklace broken
at the clasp and unwearable

can’t materialize from your depths, dear drawer.

Let her rest.
Let her be.
Show how you can have pity on me

Oh you, gentle drawer.


Talk at me while I eat

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