I walk into the living room and find
my wife sitting on the couch,
rummaging through her handbag.
“This thing keeps getting heavier,” she says.
“I want to find out what’s in it.”
As I watch, she reaches inside and
out of the depths, pulls my up heart.
“Well, what do you know?” she says,
holding it up and examining it.
“After all these years, I didn’t even know
I still had this.”