An ancient wound is nesting… my listless heart is resting.
It beats on the counter, slow tum tums on my pyschic drum.
I hear her begging to bed you.
I hear her fracture leaving little spindlings…
This is it.
Just this incomplete sentence,
and all the things I havent even felt yet. ..
I suppose its parting gift to me is a renewed need to create life.
To breathe… to let my Libran heart open..
So this is it.
I give in.