Jar On a Shelf
We filled our jar.
Our big, glass jar
on that shelf.
But it was never
meant to be big enough.
We made 5-star memories.
Rotten tomatoes were all over
our jar.
1st date:
Simple.
Movie & dinner.
Every other date:
Too cute for words.
We'd drive home
through the night,
burning away the starlight.
I would take back roads that
I, yes, had been down
before ... 10 years ago.
Just to be lost with her.
We stayed out too
late on school nights.
We overused that stupid
.
OXOX meant much
more than just hugs and
kisses.
And she kissed ME first.
I felt so unmanly.
But it was OK.
Now I'm back in this place.
Our glass jar has since fallen.
Pieces
are
everywhere.
I'm slowly brining them back.
I cut myself on each edge.
The pain is no nice, though.
It makes the experience come
to life.
Oh, to have sealed, labeled,
and stored our jar.
In our pantry.
For our children.
Nope, you'll never return
those pieces still stuck
in the bottoms of
your rubber soule.
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