I bent my ears closer to forever to catch the words
whispered though lips as dry as moon sand
in secret places
but those words are old
about as aged as stagnant dams
holding rotten figures
with long forgotten names
and limbs bent
by constant pressure
they speak only of a long
dead past
and mean nothing


So I trailed my fingers blindly across the dark coal
of my exposed heart
carefully spelling out your name
in the Braille of those secret crevices
reading into that absent touch
about how you too have been broken

As I curled my arms around myself
sencing my own damaged soul
that’s just barely warm
I feel that we have become closer
as I sit alone in this empty room
where no one else can touch me
in malice or in pity
I have been traveling in my thoughts
clutching broken pieces of you

You held on to my own shattered pieces
as we tried to mend one another with promises
or handles stolen from objects that had known no different
when we had fooled 'them' with our smiles or words
and some we tricked with glue,
never knew of the stained wool we had stuffed into
our wounds or the moths we had sewed into our hearts
to make beat again

In taking your hand you have led me to see
how two wrecks leaning together at this angle are no longer tragic
instead they become stronger
and far more organic and beautiful