like a child believes
in Santa Claus
and Freud in his
smoked cigars. I believed

in him like the sunrise
every morning, the dawning
of a new day. I felt not a thing
would lure him away. But I crumbled

like a stale cookie in his hands. And
my pieces all landed at his feet. In a fell
sweep, he swept them out the door. Robin
redbreast ate the crumbs. I believed. And now

I’m numb.