If I’ve sent you a poem
Would you kindly send it back?
I feel that I have spread my soul too widely
That I am buttered across the nation
The internet
The streets
If you hold a piece of me on your computer
In your box of special things
In your heart
I beg you send it back to me
So I can sew myself into one
Patchwork of poems.

If they are shredded, or torn at the seams
I care not
I will use any means
To stitch, stick or paste
My parcelled-out soul
Back into place.