Fetishizing Memory We walked through Chinese gardens and sat in a
little pagoda, smoking in the middle of downtown
Phoenix. You said we needed to find new
ways to think of each other, you were
afraid I still thought of you only in the
same old ways, had one set picture of
you and that was it. Yes, I wouldn’t admit
it, you were correct. It is a picture
I am constantly changing and one I
cherish dearly....I still have your
ponytail, wrapped in a purple cellophane bag
from the day you let them cut your
hair off. I am not giving it back.  ¶ 2:20 AM