AND I SAID TO HER,

Stay,
I need you,
for who will
gather the tattered
pieces of my life
and make me whole again,
who will pick up
the scraps and shards,
a million jigsaw pieces,
scattered
across these dark floors,
the shattered remains
from when I explode,
when my life bursts
like a child's bubble
floating too high
in hot summer air,
trying to reach
the heavens.

March 27, 1993