We know how to make fossils these days,

And it begs the question:

Did someone know how to make them then,

In the Pleistocene age?

Did a nursery of little hominid children 

Have a play day,

And these keepsakes they made their mothers

Turned out to be the lasting impressions of love 

That lasted longer than any of them thought possible?

I’m giving you a keepsake here.

It’s only an eternal word of love I whisper,

And if your ear can’t now entertain it,

Maybe it will fossilize.

Maybe in some future life

When you feel love at first sight

For someone and can’t explain it,

Maybe you’ll have a vague memory

Of someone, or something, who truly loved you.

-jenn