Cleave

The first time somebody breaks your heart.

Not just the pulls and strain that muscle endures – but this. A tear. Right through.

(The first time you understand what people can really do, this history of holocausts and butchery they teach at school – you remember the foundation shake, the devastation. Nothing – or life – is ever the same.

And now it’s  you).

Balloon Girl, Red Heart by Banksy

The Girl with the Red Balloon – Banksy

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You and I both loved

“Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just read of
Others only read of the love, the love that I love.” 

The economic beauty of a song lyric. The last line of a poem. The way it hits – da-DUM! – that heart thud reveal. It’s why we write a thousand lines. To get to this. To you. Sifted letters, finger trickles, and pounded keys – this constant turning over words. Just to get to this. To you.

And I …

You and I.

Not so little you and I, anymore.

A stranger said hey, what’s it about –  but you looked like a shot was fired. A gun powder flash across the face. My bullet lodged. Da-DUM!

I wrote a book.

And I never got to thank you.

“Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of, and if you could see me now
well then I’m almost finally out of 
I’m finally out of, finally …
well I’m almost finally, finally, out of words.”

Jason Mraz

Banksy Butterflies

Banksy – Suicide Butterflies