When Do I Tell Them Our Story?

Two years
and eight months since
you left me, and

I realize
that someone meeting me
today might never know

you existed.
Except there is the
rings on a necklace

which chimes,
both engraved: "C+C 10-30-03." 
Also, in my house

(you never
got to see) your
name is on a

box that
I will never unpack. 
And the mail is

sometimes still
addressed to you.  My

dreams about
you are now more
precious, bizarre, and unreal. 

Worse, however,
is catching myself fidgeting,
still without a hand
                      to
                    hold.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0