the first love

I became aware

that glass beads were within my body

I’m pretty sure I found myself through him

for I didn’t know how completely opposed I was

to normalcy

he talked in sentences unfinished,

I spoke in volumes

he could relate to me like

a duck could relate to a dragonfly


the second love

was so sure I was a butterfly

that he pinned me in his book

and tried to keep me held inside.

today when I speak

to handsome grins and eyes,

and speak of ordinary procedures in life

my tongue betrays

insects fly from my mouth

and whizz around their heads

each love I meet I become aware that

beads are in my body

the kind they make pieces in mosaics.


Now I know I’m looking for masonry.


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