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Left Over Love

What becomes of left over love 
Do you fold it neatly 
Like a winter sweater 
Lay it carefully across 
Other treasures 
Inside a cedar chest 
Till melancholy leads you 
To open the lid 
Shake it loose, admire it 
Only to discover it 
No longer fits 

Like fresh peaches 
Cut into manageable pieces 
Submerged in liquid that preserves 
Is it displayed on kitchen window sills 

Or do you simply bury it 
Beneath a tree 
Visit it periodically 
To mourn the passing 
Of a love not lasting

--Connie P., Adult