Spectators believe
we are both wounded.
walking through the remains of you
stepping on shattered glass,
stand still and feel
blood lick my feet.
And while I feel drained,
I smile because
you are still here to bandage me.
Its true-
Neither of us are whole
but we push the pieces together
and this partial puzzle is abstract and beautiful.
The past is now obselete, no longer treading water,
no longer idle,
movement and motion-
together we swim the coast
fight the undertow
catch the current and sail
the sunset rains red and purple down on us
we are illuminated and perfect.
