I reread our old convos,

hoping for a trace of your presence

I reread the poems I made dedicated to you

hoping for love written concisely, ardently

I reread every letter you sent me

hoping for a little trace of tranquility

I reread everything darling

I never do it in gloom;

I do it to be happy.

- and maybe I can find unbroken shards of you that I can pick up without getting hurt