L’amour shattered me
Left me
Reeling, feeling
Sunken
Envious handmaiden
Drunk on
Lust
Irrevocably
Sullied, sooty, stained and
Left to
Dust
Barely costumed
Housekeeping
I’m still sweeping glass
From beneath the bed
Swiping cobwebs
from sordid corners
of my head
Delicate discards
Of forgotten mistakes
I muse
Startled by
How little force it takes to break
next to the effort
we dedicate
to tidy up again
And then
I wonder
how the hell I lost track
of every insidious shard
between the proverbial
there and back?
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