6/16/2013

Jagged Parts

I kept returning
to the point before
you were gone.  Returning
to the previous plan

studying its lines, tracing
my finger along each certain

bifurcation altering what
could have been-

erasing a way back,
a way in.

But something happens
to the heart when it it's not
where it should be.  A sudden
starting or stopping, 

a deviation at the point 
where no is a good thing
and yes means ramifications.

Love is like that.  

Frankenstein's father who
would rather sew jagged 
dead parts together

than bury them.


















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