conducive to
falling in love with you
all over again,
the actionable words being
"all over"
because I am forgetting
the way it all came apart at the seems
like all those evils
within me are back seating in an attempt
to make sorbet in June
feel like February winter,
but honestly I am
still broken
and falling in love is exactly that.
Falling once again,
except my broken
wrist and sutures
for the compound fracture
will be less love's arrival as much as a departure,
another slip away of naivete's
rose budded, coke nosed, alright, this time really counts,
yellow brick rail roaded
goodbye.
