a rose.
You plucked the petals.
So, the world can see
a stem
with only thorns and leaves.

I handed you
a strand of pearls.
You wrapped around
your finger like a curl.
And pulled tight
till it snapped.
All that’s left
are empty gaps.

I handed you
a song.
You played it
till the needle
scratched,
and jumped
over the track.
Played it
till it was murky.
All the notes jerky.

I handed you
a sunny day.
You stood in the way
and became my shade.
So, now I’m a silhouette
that hasn’t set.