I want to sit by my window
Clinging to the fragments of the faded days of you and me
Plucking memories of sepia tone and gold
Of dancing and laughter and whispered promises of forever
Dispersing my pain with each choking sob
With the tears spurting from eyes with worn out valves
Sighing your name with curses as chorus
Watching life unfold on the street below
A hurtling world immune to my agony.
But life is unkind to the broken
And time an enemy of brittle things.
So, I’ll skip to the store with legs of concrete
And reach for glue, perhaps even aradite
Put it in my basket with a small jar of honey
Then I’ll show my scars at the counter, tattooed by your fickleness
Colours filled in by your callousness, I should get some change.
I’ll lay the pieces of my heart on my mother’s kitchen counter
Leisurely put it together, with glue and honey
Gathering strength from the rhythm of my ancestresses
Whistling Gloria Gaynor’s anthem and rehearsing the forgotten act of smiling.
When you’re watching a film and all that comes to your mind is a poem, you get your laptop and write.