Pieces

I’m going to put your pieces in the gun safe
Your letters, your cards, your notes, your scraps, your purple plaid peacoat, your shorts the cat peed on, your heartfelt crafts and artifacts,
That one bottle we drank and you saved and replaced the champagne with silk sunflowers
I’m going to spin the dial and forget the combination and carry it over my shoulder through the falling dusk, into the nights, into the woods, to an unmarked grave where I’ll bury our love, our years, our moments, when you made my life worth living and the sun stayed out logner and I never ate alone in front of the TV with nothing on
And they’ll find our love in 100 years or 1,000 years or far enough away so that it looks like a beautiful story, a time capsule of a fragment of our lives and hopefully not in just 10 years when we’re both still miserably alive, hating each other, proving your wildest dreams untrue.