What's Missing

I am writing you in code,
drafting
     memories, sharp
to prompt
yours.

Exploiting.

 My
                   movement,
immovable like
that cafe
                         that
moved and changed -
like we did.


Picture me still,
found broken in two -or
                         three.
A
part is still
yours. Touch my flesh -
                      my
                      makeup.
I am waiting. Stand over
    me, see
what's missing, how hard
             I work to
coexist.

Compare
    me
not
    to daylight droplets,
sticky
and rapacious, though I
am
but to
forsaken fog, though I
      am
    stayed.

Pressure upon
violaceous
pressure...surtout,
put me back together so
I may feel.

 Have I
 mentioned
 my prior splendor- or
                          do you
remember?  Can you
see
still
where I am more
complete
 or are you blinded by
the lack?  Then we both
                   have lost.
Yet, in the mathematics,
            there's a waiver,
                     so now,
loosening vainglory, I
tell a story of long ago
      and of love, revealing.

Imagine wings
              widened, over-
ripe
or a design woven
like a homemade
covering,
tucked
away for years.

 I am
 waking to the
deep
down rage of
youth and tasting all I
never knew.

The Mag