You try to tell yourself the things you try to tell yourself to make yourself forget…
to make yourself forget.
– Counting Crows, Anna Begins
Tell me about the ticket stub,
that last nub of pencil when you wrote
those words and erased them and then
wrote them again.
Tell me where to keep these
river stones, that I might not rub
them to dust with my
Tell me the stories
of these stars,
especially the fallen.
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 8.