“…I’m cutting myself
into pieces…”, she said
part realization, part confession

she studied her reflection
strange, distorted
in her lukewarm tea, leaves
floating in and out of focus,
muck at the bottom

the furrow in her brow
matched my own
a confirmation

“…that’s what I’m doing…”, she said
hand-selected, neatly packaged
the binding ribbon
for each man’s desire

“…into pieces…”, she said

nobody’s whole
no one’s only


About bittersweetverse

Writer, poet, lover. http://madamesweetcheeks.blogspot.com/ View all posts by bittersweetverse

7 responses to “Pieces

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