Sliding on Broken Glass

There is a smile on the outside

yet

My heart,

A one-legged-sort-of-snail

Slithers on broken glass

It bleeds and blisters my chest

My lungs are bags of dried out cloths

 

I sift hope through a sieve of thought

And light, dappled

Dries the blisters one by one.

 

Oh, what a lot of time to heal…

When your embrace would make

this sort-of-one-legged-snail

a meadow in bloom.

I pray to a God gone

On a long holiday

For your love made touch.