Tokens

If tokens are all I get,
Tokens are all I’d take

Empty boxes of breath mints
and
Paper boats folded on
wooden tables
at little cafe’s
and
Bills and receipts
and tickets to shows

torn in half – one for you
one for me; like the ice creams we had
sitting on our bench
in our park
on our night

I’d say tokens are all I need
But more of them

I wanted bus ticket stubs
And a photograph
A flower I’d tuck between dog eared pages

I wanted spoons of desserts we’d shared
sitting on your couch
I wanted a borrowed T shirt
soft and worn

I’d say tokens were enough,
But I’d be lying

I do that, sometimes.

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