The Stamp Still Good

The drawer stuck twice before it opened—

hard pull, and everything shifted forward:

a pen, two rubber bands,

and the card face-down on the linoleum.

My handwriting.

A birthday four years ago.

The stamp still attached, one corner

lifting away from the envelope.

I didn't open it.

I stood there at 2am

holding the utility bill I'd actually come for

and just looked at it.

I see her sometimes.

We had lunch in October.

She ordered soup and I watched her eat it

and said none of the things

I'd written down and stamped.

The stamp is still good.

I put the card back.

The drawer stuck again when I tried to close it.