Magnetic Pull

I peeled it off, the old school photo,

yellowed tape, a brittle strip.

The corners curled, a slow motion

of time, a forgotten slip.

The plastic felt stiff, refusing to bend,

leaving a sticky mark on the steel.

A faint rectangle where it had been,

what the magnetic pull could reveal.

Her smile, a little faded, true,

the colors washed, almost gone.

Just a ghost of what we once knew,

holding on, barely, until dawn.

Now just a bare spot, cold and gray,

where a moment used to cling.

Some things just can't stay,

no matter what we bring.