seeing you again was like
recalling some boyish trove
with all of the emotion that
the rediscovery of an empty beetle-shell,
dark and shiny, might inspire
I could not have left you where
I found you for love of my plans
to fill this hollow carapace with superglue
to remake you Whole and hopefully
to stick you to me in the process
and then maybe display you on a fine chain,
exotic scarab upon my chambered heart
but all you could do was crumble out of my touch
and my assumed gladness of last evening
was because a beetle-shell’s story ought not to have been
about me.
I love this. I've read it several times now when hopefully checking for updates. Everytime I read it, something new jumps out at me, secretly nestled in the simplicity.
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