My heart was broken once.
Well, crunched, really.
That’s the sound it made
while it collapsed
and crumbled in around itself.
Some of it blew away
in September’s breeze.
We used to sit
cross-legged and awkward
on the floor in the dim light of my closet
facing each other.
We’d tilt heads
and widen mouths
seal our open lips together
and blow
hard.
This always ended in laughter
until once
when it didn’t.
And if you’ve ever tried to piece
together a fallen, empty beehive—
then you know exactly how I felt.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment