Monday, July 4, 2011
For every relationship, we get to place one star
somewhere on our bodies. I see you and I might
be around the same age or you started young
and I’m just really into the constellation look.
For every broken heart received, we get to trace the
shape, as skewed as we’d like, and decide where
it will show up on the formerly beloved’s skin. You
kindly hid the mark of a black heart under my tongue.
For every broken heart given, we must place one
lump of coal in our throats. It will show up as an
additional Adam’s Apple, without the perks of any
better vocal quality when speaking or singing.
It is only there to remind us, when that person shows
up in the future, why we should miss them and that they
are beautiful. When that time most surely comes, we
won’t be able to say a thing, only swallow the moment.
The justice of heartbreak, that we are all left with marks.