Somewhere between my own ignorance and confidence,
Is merely the thought of you.
If I’m being an honest,
It isn’t enough.
The same golden hoop earrings you wore,
The night I first kissed you,
Traces of your sweet smile, somehow left behind one rainy evening,
Like the promise of what might have been.
And the same necklace I gave you,
Before you sent me away.
©2001 by John L. Fischer