The box said
‘1,000 pieces’
Yet the picture is complete.

I watch from the lid—
unfitted.

There was never room
for 1,001.

As the gunfire ceased
And the battlefield began to weep
There he lies: frozen, asleep.

Battered and lifeless, his hands idle upward—
Through their veins marched a thousand men
They sang their spirits of fury and rage;
Now they rest, unwilling to sing again
As a thousand melodies and songs unheard
Flow for a final time
Upward, through the fingers—
Never to be sung,
Just once,
Only then.

The rocky vessel
I’ve stood on
My whole life

Still leaves me swaying—
Though I’ve since stepped
Onto land.

Sometimes I doubt
If I truly loved them
As much as
I could have.

But I know I did—
These tears are proof.

Are we cosmic—
Or chaos in disguise?
Our love burned bright,
Yet so does my sorrow—
Like the stars,
Still shining
Long after
They’ve died.