Memoir

By KEVIN GOH

 

You used to say

it was never just

a deck of baseball cards.

 

I would shut you off

when you rattled on

and on

 

about each pitcher

batter star

player,

 

especially the

holographic ones:

“look how they shine”.

 

they found your favorites

in your left chest

pocket afterwards:

 

eight passengers,

two drunk

no survivors.

 

there is no closure.

only pain, tugging at heart-

strings that now stretch on

 

and on

to where you are and

wherever you may be

 

but these heart-

strings, now, begin

on the back

 

of a deck of cards:

see here my favorite, and

look how it shines,

 

for you.

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