On the box are:
1. her wire-rimmed bifocals
2. her flip-up sunglasses
3. my wedding ring
After she died, all I had to do
was get a side-long glance
of that box
and the lights would go jagged.
Strange. But I miss bawling like that now,
and today, I'm missing her so much.
Her goofy, sweet, sidelong smile.
Her warm body curled up next to mine.
I'm beyond tired of skittish women
in their fifties, who always overshare
that once they were promiscuous,
but, just my luck, not anymore.
They're wary. Me, not so much,
I just want someone fun
who's not afraid of her own shadow.
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