Our Plans, Collapsing

Our plans, collapsing: Our lives fall apart today,

and we cannot find the words to make it hopeful.

Our understanding brings no solace or repair,

and a storm now gathers hard above our heads

as we fade to sleep in newly single beds.



You cannot be my inspiration and I will not be

your light. I tried to give you everything. You

need to know I live to hold on, to hold on.



If I dreamt a bee sting, when I carved a gaping

wound, you made for me a sling and tied it, truly.

You understood me, and that clearly makes it

hard when I give myself to someone else's home.

You lived with me and now you live alone.



These hands of ours, they were a contract, those

pinholes were our sky. There is no easy way from

here to there; there is no kind consideration in

falling out of love, but bless us both for trying

to be there. So hold on, hold on.



Stories in stories, line between lines; photos,

postcards, and handwritten asides. We are stories

in stories in stories.