Tarnish
You are the hundreds of flowers
I never picked.
You are the dust layers on old furniture
I never brushed off.
You are the yellowed paper
I never wrote on.
You are the flickering flame
I never extinguished.
You are the song
I never sang.
You are all the perfect imperfections
I never lay a finger on
For fear of tarnishing it all
with my imperfect perfections.