Love
Falling apart,
like pieces from a tipped puzzle;
watching as they fall
, slow motion,
almost able to grab them
and clutch them,
but they hit the floor;
knowing the puzzle can be put back together
but it will take time.
You were there
and we had to determine which pieces were yours
and which were mine,
and as we picked apart that puzzle
I repeated “this one’s yours” and
“this one’s mine”
until I came to a piece that was obviously yours
and of which you had plenty -
turquoise and sky;
you were not looking when I said:
“And this one’s mine.”