I never understood heartbreak
thinking that would be
a selfish love
if everyone is still alive
existing elsewhere
as lovely as ever.

I later found we are not ourselves--
I was not myself
wrapped up and folded into you
seamless under blankets, only adjacent
to the sofa backing and mattress.

When I decided to leave that night
I felt us break as slow and ponderous
as Pangea, I felt our distinctive ends
begin. A part of me would not survive
and I certainly killed something.