untitled xxxvi

I hold onto your love like a house
we built
brick by brick
on a concrete foundation poured over
a fault line we wouldn't know of for years and
the south wall already caving in, as
the ivy green laces over the garage
our comings and goings appear lush and lovely.

Held tightly in a fist
I hold onto
your love like a brick
thrown through the kitchen window
splattering it like eggs across the oily stovetop where
water boils for tea I will forget to make.
when magic hour light lands on the broken glass
it shines.