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Perfect Imaginings

June 14, 2012
tags: , ,

Yesterday I held a glass,
just an ordinary glass, or so it was at first.
But then I imagined.

I imagined that you had graced it with your lips,
held it in your hand, held it while you laughed.

I imagined that you had moved it from one hand to the other,
to pull your feet up and close beside you on my couch.

I imagined that you had circled its edge, traced its surface,
until you found the chip in the base.

And I imagined that you had smiled –
Smiled and thought it perfect
because it wasn’t perfect.

I can transform objects and places with this imagination;
a glass becomes my looking glass
and a kitchen a cafe where we have set a date.

I imagine you often when we are apart.
I imagine you as perfect because you are not perfect,
but most often, I simply imagine you as mine.

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