Linda Meant Beautiful
Nostalgia is an ivory-silk bride’s dress
From long ago locked sternly in amber.
This type of wistfulness protects that tress
You stole and treasure because the camber
Of such dejection is extreme beyond
Pink sentiment, especially if slipped
Between the chapters of a book of blonde,
Chaste pages turned into eternal crypt
For faded, crushed, and desiccated flowers
Between the memorizinf leaves. Pain
From these remembrances prolongs the hours
And touches paper with a pastel stain.
..Nostalgia is a Mariana Trench
….That nothing but pale death will ever quench.