Thursday, April 23, 2009



I still think of you fondly, she said to him.

Fondly? It might as well be “pondly,”
a stagnant body of algae-laden water.

No, fondly as in how the sun kisses
a watercolor portrait.
The paints have faded, leaving a dark outline of the images.
Faint pastel colors remember and blush at
the passion and vibrant colors
they knew that adorned my world.

When I think of you fondly,
the flaws and mistakes are erased
and only the delightful moments are outlined.

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