Sunday, December 14, 2014

Poem: On Stealing

If a woman
steals my heart,
she'll find it
totally beat
and unlocked.

It might shake,
at first.

The worried seams,
though repeatedly
reinforced,
have pulled apart;
the contents
visible.

"What's that noise?",
she'll ask herself.
She may wonder
a while
about the music
before realizing.
Oh.

She might say,
"Beautiful,
yet quite
heavy. (At times?)"
Or: "Confounded!"

Looking closer
she may be
disappointed
by missing parts.
She might check
the box,
read the instructions
or call.

Later:
The scratches
she hadn't noticed
at first
and so much
broken
by carelessness
of the previous
owner.

-me

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