A Bracelet

January 13, 2016

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Between the perfume bottle

and the bracelet resting on my dresser,

there is a story

of how I fell in love with you. 

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Between the camera and the books, 

a stack of three,

there is a story of how you fell in love with me. 

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Slipping on the bracelet, one of silver and engraved, 

my eyes read the title of one book.

Never Take For Granted Love, on the cover it did say.

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On my wrist the scent I placed. 

Its aroma told of a moment when your arms they lifted me

and we spun circles on brick space.

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Reflected in glass double doors,

this was a true love story’s start.

To have the moment photographed, I could visit it once more. 

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On the silver band around my wrist,

my only love had inscribed,

“Never take for granted love.”

Nostalgic tears did fall, from my hazel eyes.

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