Old Flame - edit 1 (Formerly Faint Hope)

[Vikiirna]

I think billy's and bb's suggestions for brevity do strengthen the poem.  The terseness of your phrases has already been contributing the emotional tone.  The sparsity of detail itself invokes plain, white, chilly refrigerator walls.
You'll probably think I'm nit-picky crazy here, but I'm finding a jarring note in the word "but".  (Go ahead and laugh; you already have in my head.   )  "But" has a way of cancelling out the preceding clause, no?  And yet even the soggy staleness of this pie doesn't deserve to be cancelled out; it's still part of the promise that the pie represents, isn't it?   If you don't think I'm crazy or off-base, then maybe try out some gentler conjunctions: "yet", "still", etc. 

I'm also a little unsure about the title, but for a slightly different reason.  The way I read this poem, while in reality the pie might not deliver on it's full promise, it represents something a bit more concrete to the "you" who is holding on to it.  The hope itself feels more than faint to me.  

Now, thinking as I type, "Faint Hope" implies a gentle mockery of the pie-saver. I didn't read that teasing at first, but, if it's what you intend, please ignore all of my suggestions. 

A sliver remains,
the final slice of pie
at the back of your fridge
beside a jar of pickles
you got the week you moved in.

The crust soggy, the taste dulled,
but it's nice to know something's there
if you feel like something sweet. 

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