look back on the rubble
excavate every jagged shard
and splinter on my heart;
ache with me your
wounded finger
and find me in the hurt.

see you here.

gently pluck fragile shrapnel
from the heap of debris;
i am below here in the rubble
of a you and me.

yet do not be so gentle
with these fragile shrapnel
because even to bits
i am enamored;
crush the fractals between
your curious fingers,
pain me once more again
until the pieces are dust
that weathers to the wind,
let the breeze know
of my mourning.

and then maybe you
are needless now
to dig me from the sand
i am interred deep;
after all, i found comfort here,
and sound sleep.

but one thing to remember, love,
when you shovel me out my grave
look me in the eye, burier,
you are forgave.

see you again.