I found the Danish Krone in my coat pocket.
It clinks and clings against my keys, pressed
up next to a stick of mint gum, a ponytail
and a tissue that’s soiled.

I found a hole in the lining, like the hole in
the coin. So perfectly shaped and round. The
size of a matchstick. I hold it up to my eye,
closed, seeing right through to your face.

I put it around my neck on a chain. The gold
keeps it safe as it hangs down between my
breasts, left bigger than the right, that miss
your touch. Better loved than lost.

On my dresser it sits next to a locket, with
the picture of my high school crush. His name
was Jimmy. He was on the lacrosse team. He
was my first kiss.

And you, are my other first, in many ways
so priced and pure. These firsts, they cost
much more.

And the metal coin is cold. It makes me
shiver, up against my skin, and I remember
when you read to me my favorite story, about the
bus driver who wanted to be God. Voice so
deep, I taped it to my mind.

You cannot really call this necklace jewelry.
The coin, it is does not fit within the standard
definition. Yet light, the weight it pulls me down in
pieces. Like a puzzle, I try hard to understand.

I am afraid of being alone.