MARK A. FISHER
another box
another box
within
a wooden coffer
hidden
away in a dark closet
are
memories of childhood
mementos
in string and stone
tossed
in with effigies of gods
and
lost loves
with
the colors leeched away
to
pool like wax
in
the bottom of the box
where
passions have burnt away
illusions
casting
harsh light
onto
dreams
which
have sublimated
into
a vapor
of
hope
to
drift away
if
the box
is
ever opened
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