It’s still not home

A bolt of lightning finally separates

My withering flowerless limb

From the trunk that is him

Now, I can do anything

But what is a branch torn

Lying on the forest floor

From a long dead apparatus

And what is next?

I want for the wind of the storm

To move me so far past this

But what would a lone branch do

Planted next to some cactuses

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One thought on “It’s still not home

  1. Sometimes, it’s hard to separate ourselves, with the people we’d established that attachment to, because we are, enmeshed with the person, and that makes us, more vulnerable, to the love that may be wrong for us…

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