Have you ever tried to repair broken porcelain?
Glue gun in hand
Licking the curve of a stained teacup,
You know the heat won’t
But you glide along anyway.
China so fine and so delicate it
Under hope’s facade of mending.
Tie gold sacks over dangling feet of
Your face painted black and
A navy duvet sprawled across my
But you’re convinced this is a tea
My dear, your invitation has been
The moon floats in the sky
Shining silver light on
A final breath.
Pencil in hand I draw
one more image
Of your love before my eyes close
And these lips find the strength to