we are little fragments glued together
bounding on our merry way
colliding and contriving
falling apart into piles on the ground
she kneels next to me
helping me reassembled
temporarily
until the next gust of wind
or different pile of fragments
blows me to pieces
brokeness comes from the gut
abs contract as we release
bits of water and snot
she is aging and yet much more beautiful than I
she cries, yet I rarely see it
if she becomes uncollected in front of me
what will i do
will i know how to help her put herself back
sometimes i fear a broom will come
and sweep our fragments into a pan
and we shall stay in our broken state
sobbing and screaming
is the anticipation worse than the event?
7 comments:
that last stanza took it home baby.
i love that first line and i really like the way this part is phrased: "helping me reassembled." reassembled is so perfect there!
thats funny, b/c reassembled is a typo, it should just be "reassemble"
but if you like it that way, hey, i'll leave it that way ;)
i like it reassembled because it connotes two things: the process of reassembling and the finality of already being done, reassembled.
...a perfect paradoxical phrase...
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