i feel like. a shattered piece of glass.
all my pieces sprawled on the floor.
torn.
it still hurts.
that's the simplicity. of the thing .

he picks of the pieces of me.
he pools them in his hands caressing his face with the
bittersweet melody.

he wades.
cupping in his hands a sip.
he lets the liquid. warm his inside.
he delves deep into my my pain
finding the source of the rain.
he splashes in puddles and laughs out loud.
the clouds hang over him
like a sliver gray blanket
and he embraces them.
he
reaches to touch them.

he builds on there delicacy
and tastes the truth
in the cotton candy layers

he knows me.
me unfolds my layers.
he picks through the garbage and finds
the truest me.
he doesn't need a key
he gently sets aside my card board wall
and comes into my hut
a house made of tin.
he holds me
kissing my tears and caressing my hair
he knows me

he embraces the bitter sweetness
of
relationships
he stays
makes himself comfortable
and sleeps
in the rain.