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Shoe Boxes Hold No More Shoes

Show boxes hold no more shoes

But love letters, still unopened

Dust blankets pillow coverings

Unobstructed and undisturbed

The bulbs are out and it is dark

Except where the sun pulls bent

Breaths through windows cracks

For open mouths of quiet chests

The toys remain unplayed with

And the books stack themselves

Particles partake in pilgrimage

From the armchair to lampshade

Seeking something slumber eternal

Otherwise, nothing moves here:

Shoe boxes hold no more shoes

But love letters, still unopened.



About this poem

The original title for this poem was "The Attic." I wanted to tell a story purely based on the objects in a space, and an attic felt like a great place to tell one. The line, "Shoe boxes hold no more shoes," was the first thing I wrote down, and the rest of the poem developed from there. Looking back, I think that this poem is telling a sad story, a tragedy, about a love that never flourished.

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