Expire

Some things
Expire.
Like loaves of bread with clip tags
And a fleeting glance from across the bar.
Maybe she didn’t notice
Or the print was too faint or to small
Tucked away under the wrapper.
First of April it said,
Like some half hearted attempt at a joke.
I guess it couldn’t wait till December
Nor July nor next month.

Did you remember
(That I am still here)

Expire

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