Duct tape the lenses, put your glasses on.
Rope boat to boat beside a splintered bridge.
Clasp hands after the unforgivable argument.
Begin with what’s broken. It’s what we have.
Nothing you lost is really replaceable. None
of it’s fair. No words I say make it unhappen.
I love you and I love you, yes but that goes
only so far. It’s beside the point, and so am I,
but I’ll hold the shards of you—fury, shame,
meltdown, knife on the wrist, ashes rising
into a phoenix with a grafted wing, into
a flash of laughter, dizzy flight. Together.
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