Blade Selection

"I piled countless blades on the table

And asked her to pick out the dull one."

I could not understand

the way her hands bled

over the carpet.

Her heart leaked a chemical-red

like oil spills

as she came to terms

with the dead.

A dried up parchment,

crumbled to pieces

like specs on the floor.

          We can play connect*the*dots

          to re-link it whole.

          But the lines

          are imaginary...

A dead fish

has polluted an entire ocean.

And emotions have dwindled

to pebbled ripples

in a random breeze.

I long for the days

of rope tied around giant stones

and thrown down as anchors

in hopes that neither the sea nor the ship

would be alone...

...when all was solidified

and TRUST wasn't deemed a steel beam,

benT, RUSTed

and fake...

...when all was spelled out

and LOVE wasn't merely an acronym

for a mistake:

Loss Of Vision Entirely...

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