You’ve plucked cerulean blues
While combing dancing thread
Strung bridges in canyons you
Cleaved across my flowerbed
I’d sew the fragments of this garden
Back together if it killed me,
you know that?
I’ve spit out strings of your stinging songs
Buried them beneath forget-me-nots
Pressed and pale against your wrongs
Yet still their bitter palate rots
In the recesses of my memory
Let it go Mom says but
Ma, where do I put it down?
Or I’d bump shoulders with your memory
On some cold flushed crying afternoon
Look at you and see no enemies
Then know this fight is ending soon
Because maybe this is
The mechanics of remedies
The art of forgiving
The play of healing
Maybe there are no prescribed remedies
For no stretch of pain can writhe forever
Maybe it’s laughable to bury memories
And canyons aren’t sewed back together
Maybe forgiving is not so much art
But a fraction of a moment gone untouched
Maybe I’ll remember you forever by heart
And maybe someday that won't hurt so much
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