I write because of things like postcards / I write
because they fall out of things like the crease of my
favorite book / where I keep my place / and they
remind me of things / like the time that we spent
together / that day
at the airport / we spent nearly five minutes deciding
which postcard we wanted during our layover that ate
away hours in time only measurable by tic-tac-toe / so
much tic-tac-toe / and cut-throat polish poker
we shuffled through the postcards / running our
fingers over each and every one/ I picked this one
because of the sparkles / you picked me because of my
devotion to words
you put the card on the counter and turned to look
back at me / you told me that we were only once in a
lifetime but that someday somewhere you hope to meet
me again in another / for the third time / and then we
left North Carolina
-Catherine Buckley