Keepsakes

I believe in science

But also secret signs:

The iridescent bubbles,

The magic of the numbers.

Everything has meaning

When you’re learning

How a heart breaks

For the first time

(And the last time).

Everything’s a keepsake

When you filter for your tears;

Every song’s an elegy,

Written for the disappeared.

I find comfort in the torment

Of another haunted melody.