shopping list poetry
i feel like i’m coming apart without you.
this devastation does not take place in a dramatic way.
it happens in a tiny pieces,
one at a time,
kind of way.
it’s not like bridges are falling.
there is no celine dion crescendo to my longing.
just pieces
like a phantom limb
like an arc of pink cherry blossoms
like a masonic temple
like a tiny painkiller in my palm
like a whole list of metaphors that,
despite the tricks of language,
cannot quite convey
these days without poetry
where i can walk beneath a wall of colour…
& not a thing.
this devastation does not take place in a dramatic way.
it happens in a tiny pieces,
one at a time,
kind of way.
it’s not like bridges are falling.
there is no celine dion crescendo to my longing.
just pieces
like a phantom limb
like an arc of pink cherry blossoms
like a masonic temple
like a tiny painkiller in my palm
like a whole list of metaphors that,
despite the tricks of language,
cannot quite convey
these days without poetry
where i can walk beneath a wall of colour…
& not a thing.
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