I left you in the shoebox

taped the lid, collaged the top, bragged
I could carry you around in 
broad daylight

that even if this heavy square held an ocean, 
a swamp
a car wreck

it was still tidy. clean. contained.
lid tight. decorated.
and there I was, out in public with it.

So this was me, 11:03 PM.
after the latest text
tucked in between the hours of dusk and discreet
when I missed the crack in the curb
and down we went

you shattered like champagne flutes 
on the ballroom floor
I scrambled to gather  

but there you were
the overwhelm
the constant

the tug
the first kiss
the loyal
the pooling blue love

the adore

the adore

the sheer worship
the times you held me in your arms and didn’t want to move
the story of us, love

bleeding out on concrete

and I was nothing again. dried husk heart. skeleton of almost.

watching you bead like water crystals
on the cold august street.

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