It's been a long time now,
and I'm dusting off the old photographs of you,
breathing in a sigh of relief; that I can bear,
to see you smile, without breaking down
in tears.

I could have burned everything
you ever touched, sunk our ship in flames,
hurled both of our names
deep, into the dirtiest of places; flung
down, spat, and stomped. And buried them.

But I hold onto the fragments, and I
keep your name hidden in my box of treasures,
so I may take it out, now and again; and reflect
on the impermanancy of art, life, and love.