Is there something that stitches together broken people with no common history
Except that of being lost
of free falling as transient as shooting stars
Some say this is exhilarating
We may make good art
We may have an interesting pockmarked veneer that
Endures the interest of the
Fallen lady beneficent or the Collector of burned dreams
Sweeping them up like ashes
Dropped from pipes of smoked relatives
of cremated histories.
I know you won’t understand this
I know you don’t recognize this fashion
But it intrigues you for a while at a reading or a writing group or therapy with other victims before they die of their wounds.
we were all in this together until we weren’t.