Tuesday, August 21, 2007

The Photograph

You are on my desk, caught in a photograph

You watch me work, write, yawn, laugh

I look at you often

And it’s like the best conversation

You sit there all day, twixt the tissue box and potted plant

Giving me the undivided attention I want

I wonder if you think of me, when I think of you.

Is there a picture of me on your desk too?


I care for you in my own strange way

Maybe you’ll never know; maybe I’ll never show.

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