We are fragmented,
Bits of ourselves
Float…
Away.
We are amalgam
You, me, she
Mixed together
Holding each other
Together.
Unplanned proximity; too much
Closeness.
Too close;
Too far apart
We spin around
The planet of home.
Home, heart, hearth
We struggle to hold
The fragments together
As we implode, explode
Fragment.
Love, stretched, balloon thin
We wait for the bang.
But…
It doesn’t come.
We hold each other
Together,
Collecting the tender pieces
In gentle hands,
Holding them
Until the time is right
And we emerge, whole but altered
Blinking in the
Light.
…………..
Lynda is a textile artist and writer of poetry and short stories. Some flash fiction has been published.