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verbs and pieces

Hands in the moonlight
clutch, squeeze
hold tight
to days past
when snow can't cover tracks and
rain breathes like a sigh
from heaven's lip.
Hearts in shadow
grasp, cling
to days past
when pieces were part
of a luminous whole
when cracks were impending
clacking on window panes
not a threat yet
to our intertwining smiles;
plucked, jarring
from a faded photograph
now just pieces
running, scarred
moonlit pieces falling, slipping
from laced-together fingers
covered with rain.
No longer sighs
now screaming, raging
everything's in pieces
mixed, bleeding
pieces are useless when they can't
fit with yours to piece together
a moonlit smile
dying, loving
as pieces
fly.



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