pocket watch
she bought me
a present
a small box
about the size of a fist
off-white w/a small lid
a red bow on top
I smiled & craned my neck
toward her mouth
our lips touching briefly
—a quick kiss
the world as I knew it
resided in that box
a timeless treasure
inside its own space
like a pearl
or a memory
like a diamond in the rough
aren’t you going to open
it she asked
—and what would be the point
in that I replied
september two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Great piece. Dreams are best kept as dreams, I feel.
Thanks for commenting on this piece, Chris.
My pleasure.