The hoodoo woman drew my star map
like she was leaving a breadcrumb trail –
Hanzel and Gretel style directions for me
to see how every line between me
was a unique scar
stretched across the space between an
and Scorpio’s moon.
I could pinpoint the exact moment
your touch picked me up,
lifted me from cardboard lost and found box
and placed me,
delicate dried flower,
upside down on your bedroom wall.
I think two becomes one is bullshit.
I think heart break and love go hand in hand
and I could be in critical condition –
ICU bed and a rhythmic beat background noise,
and you’d never switch up the technique –
hands on my wrists,
face in the pillow,
mouth so far away
I cannot feel your breath,
way of loving me.
Thank you to MindLoveMisery for their prompt!