mementoes

How those worthless objects, which
have lined many pocketed years, fall
apart under the scrutiny of a beacon
of ochre-heeled light, sneering high
above her cernuous neck.

Nevertheless, she positions those
precious millstones gently and tenderly
within a teal blue suitcase, just as one
would handle a delicate newborn, for
without them, she has no idea who
she is.

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