Dior Dreams-with Crimsin

In shrink-wrapped memories
and a Christian Dior photograph
of my imagination, and dreams
 
I collect our days in the sun
and place them in a jar
fireflies of hope don't let that spark die
 
like incense, popsicles, and gum  
now my memories are in a toybox
forever altered by age and seasons
 
my body betrays my heart
the last of my gloss has dulled
and the luster of youth has been devoured
 
without a reset button to restore
the essence of Dior's lipstick
now an addict to nostalgia
given my proclivities
to flip the pages
 
in shrink-wrapped memories
I commit the unforgivable sin
and get old