Have you ever lost a ticket, a receipt?
Something you really wanted to keep
Have you ever held it so tight
That you thought you’d never lose it
But then it gets so familiar
That feel between your fingers
you don’t realise it’s not there?
It’s somewhere, floating through particles
It still exists, it knows where it went
You’ll never see it again.
But you know that it was real
you can still feel the wrinkled paper in your palm.