Line Them Up

By Gary Lee Parker

There's always a photograph
With love
An attempt at permanence
For this thing
That breaths change with every breath

Showing split souls
Embracing
The surrender of autonomy
For this thing
That redeems us from our daily death

They all end the same
Hidden away
In boxes that contain our lives
We add one more
And start anew, letting go the past

There's always a photograph
Of love
I line them up before me
And add one more

And sue, 'Please, please, let this one be the last...'