{berets and bongos} 69;

“if it comes creased and creased again and soiled
as if i’d opened it a thousand times
to see if what i’d written here was right,
it’s all because i looked too long for you
to put it in your pocket. midnight says
the little gifts of loneliness come wrapped
by nervous fingers. what i wanted this
to say was that i want to be so close
that when you find it, it is warm from me.”

– ted kooser, pocket poem.

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