Pack Rat.

Someday.
Someone will be glad i saved their trash.
Maybe in 20 years I'll hand it to them.
But no sooner.
They'll read their old notes.
And see the faded receipt.
From the corner store.
Those cigarettes you told me not to buy.
And the peach nectar.
The kind that came in the tall cans.
And those rancheritos.
For one second.
one.
We'll both be overwhelmed.
With the slowness of that night.