10am hour 8 poem 8

Poem for Us (written while listening to Max Richter, On the Nature of Daylight)

You come to me slightly.
You are so broken
and she is so broken
and they are so broken.
We are all so broken.

Ancient china broken

You tippy toe in
not to shatter yourself
not to drop yourself to the floor
not to kick up any
blinding memory dust
not to knock anyone off
our shadow ledges.

You skippity hop talk softly
cautiously
needingly.
You are so broken.
We are all so broken.

Forgotten promises broken broken

You come to me
stemmed and leaking
and she is there.
We bandage with cool cloth talk
gluey safeties
soft, warm blanket gauzes
that soothe us
that soothe even them.

You are so broken
and she is so broken
and they are so broken.
We are all so broken

Pangaea broken

Pieces of our whole torn apart
but still fitting broken

separated only by space and time broken.