It took a while, but I finally found the perfect box. How can a box be perfect, you ask? Well, this is no ordinary box, and it cannot be compared to society’s cookie-cutter six sides.
My box holds magic.
Oh, now, don’t you roll your eyes at me. What I say is true. This box carries magic. Not the top-hat-smoke-and-mirrors-kind, or the they-walk-among-us kind, but magic all the same. A magic that is fading…
In this box, I pile
Words and phrases,
Old worn pictures and pages from books.
Love notes of both song and hand.
Tears, and kisses, and laughter,
And everything in between, are poured into the chest until
It’s ready to burst.
These things, that seem trivial and everyday, are fleeting. They are easily corroded by the evils that lurk in the world and, if we are not careful, slip away into a world forgotten.
Someone needs to protect them. Why not me?
