As I stood amid the broken, jagged shards of life as we had known it
Individually, as matched sets, collectively,
As I watched in horror the blood drip from my shattered heart
when the fragments splintered into indiscernible shapes,
As I cut my fingers to the bone demanding
with frantic, frenzied determination,
that they, the pieces, allow me to re-arrange them
into something acceptable, to me,
something at least resembling what had been between us
I was struck anew, by that weightiest of acceptances,
that you have come to visit again, loss
but that you will as ever,
leave something new
in your
wake.
And I may hold it tighter,
with more ardor,
than I did its previous to your intrusion,
incarnation.
And it will be,
it is now,
Precious.
Marcela: licking wounds, picking up pieces, making plans, waiting for bitch-slappy’s next, making plans anyway.
April 25, 2020