they say hearts see ten times past vision
I’ve always felt sheltered by my glasses
troubled at letting go of things in front of me
managing to carry boulders when I weigh feathers

longing for the answer of not breaking at the stem
pleading to split down the middle
always dealt the smaller end

I will forever be a third of myself
if I count every step I took backwards

cars passing by as lines of light
and I know my direction is north
the hands around my waist
seem to spin me around clockwise
life having its middles
and I am reminded of my favorite novel’s end

I walked towards him like a withered rose
how am I looking in the mirror and blooming

is it still called
a broken heart
if you have
glue to fix it
yourself

not heartbroken-

just learning to love
on my own

your heart is far too cold
for you to love her
but her body is too warm
for you to say goodbye

I could never mind
being fire and ice with you
as long as we kept our distance -

but you touched me
and now I am a puddle of water
instead of something solid
that could make it through the night

I think I’m going to see you
everywhere that I go,

because my brain is already
picturing your hands
on the window shop mannequins
I’m passing by on this city street

and I begin to wonder if they are a perfectly delicate match to mine
when held up in comparison

so you placed your right thumb
on top of my left
and we found two similar beauty marks
mirroring with each other

maybe it shows the pinpoint
of where we met in another life

he fell in love with me
on the same night I wore
a summer dress in the fall
and talked about how much I hated the wind

we spoke to each other in vivid colors
when we were so used to
only hearing black and white

imagine finding something so meaningful
almost upon accident
when you have been searching for it
your entire life

and like the freckles on my ankles
connecting as skin stars,
I want to spend the season
with him on my side

summer came
and I was falling

he promised to be spring
but his heart felt like winter

so please tell me why his love
goes away like this wind
carrying the leaves

I glanced at an old polaroid of us,
it belonged on the corner
of my writing desk
months ago

I don’t know how fond memories
are becoming so distant,
how the colors are fading
from warm to dull

like I won’t remember
anything, soon

even red lipstick
leaves a mark on your skin
when you try to wipe it off
and you’re left with
a cherry stain