Old Love

On the days that my mind fades and my smile weakens


And patience is a virtue that we have forgotten to keep warm,


I make my way into the corners of my heart,


Wandering through dusty chambers and unswept veins


To find the deepest and darkest crevice in which to rest;


It is here that I sit and unfold our memories.


I brush off any harsh words that have clung to my coat


And wrap myself in our first encounter,


The beginnings of love.


I take out the soft words one by one and watch the curve of your words tremble


As I hold them up to the light.


I flick through the album of favourite moments,


Recall our matching smiles and conjoined hands.


I pick out secret glances and kissed noses from the jumble of affection,


Try them on as if they were flannel pajamas and fur winter coats.


I cradle the glow of shining eyes and flushed cheeks in my hands;


Their warmth creeping into dimples and freckles that have not been embraced or grazed upon in a while.


I hold our love close as I remember, not regret.


Every morning I make my way into the corners of my heart,


And every morning you make your way into its centre,


And every morning I wake up and find that I love you more than I did last night.

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