I thought--

I thought I had learned how to forget you.

I thought there was no love between us.

Then your picture appeared, a surprise,

at the bottom of the box,

face different but young and fresh.

I thought of you. I searched for you

on my shiny new computer screen.

And when I found you...what to say?

I saw where you lived and who you loved.

I saw what you ate for breakfast.

I saw why you left me, maybe, just maybe.

And I thought, "I will write to her.

I will bury this hatchet forevermore."

But once-friend, I realize: what hatchet?

I am nothing to you now. I understand.

But why, at this moment in time,

when my life is so empty and fruitless

and yours is so full of light,

did I find your picture in that box,

inscribed with words of love

from when we were friends and heart-mates?

I can only think, once-friend,

that your fine-featured face is a sign:

old girl, life keeps moving on!

And I must move on with time, too.

But I wanted you to know I thought of you.

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