Knowing

Traced
I can see the faint outlines upon the shiny desk
The notes and hearts and wishes
I know well
the trappings the hints
made by hands over the years,
the simple curves of the letters positively bursting with the effort poured into them
are a reminder
still hear a sigh as a dream hits the floor, and
Then the one metallic shard of the mirror
        that still held hope
                 hurts you a little
I know well the wonder: does it matter?
I know well the wanting
Arching a broken back to hold onto residual dreams
though the gold stops glittering
I can still taste the longing, still see the last trace