Boxes

L., my love, with all your locks…
Keep your lovers in a box.
With all that you’ve got stored away
One thinks it just might rain someday.

Written to me, by a lover, years ago.

And I do have a box of lovers. An old ornate box which contains a cigarette a lover never got around to lighting. The bent top to an opened bottle of beer. The wrapper to a Hershey’s bar made into a lovely valentine. A guitar pick. A lock of hair. A cork to a bottle of wine. A jack of diamonds. A stone. A seashell. Bits and pieces of other times and other places. There’s only one rule. The thing must have no monetary value.

My heart is a collector.