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Piece-Picker

 

pick-up-pieces

 

I picked up all the pieces.

 

You published a book and

I read the words

You often whispered only to me.

I looked on as our secrets

Walked out, slamming the door

Behind them.

I picked up a piece.

 

I bought front-row tickets

To your performance and

Watched you set the stage on fire.

But it was my heart

That burned.

I picked up a piece.

 

I visited your gallery,

But in your bold strokes

I sensed fear.

I picked up a piece.

 

You left me for the stage and

I followed. Only

To pick up the pieces.

 

Now I can’t find you-

On any stage,

Or gallery.

What happened to your art?

 

I picked up all the pieces

You left in your wake-

But I cannot construct you whole

Again.

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