Imaginary wears a suit
but his tie is blue
and yellow.
Real wears a skirt
dark and straight
and clean.
Imaginary holds her hand
and lets her wear
his tie.
Real tries to let go
and walks out the door:
“I have work.”
Imaginary waits patiently
sitting next to an empty vase
and thinks of her.
Real stays away
focused and unwilling to see
him waiting.
Imaginary picks flowers for her
daisies and buttercups and dandelions—
he puts one in his pocket.
Real strides through tall buildings
onto the next job—
a flower floats by,
and she sees.
Imaginary fills the vase
perfect, just for her—
he closes his eyes,
to save it.
Real stoops down to pick it up
and dirty looks follow her hand—
she touches the petals,
and remembers him.
Imaginary opens his eyes
and the flowers are still there—
he sits and waits,
just for her.

Real runs home
but finds only darkness in response—
she dons her black dress
and doesn't cry.
Real reasons with herself
that he’s still there—
but there is only silence
and her regret.
Real leaves the coffin behind
and walks into the arms of the stern—
they glare at her,
and she realizes.

She is still wearing his tie.

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