If you were if you were
to love your broken lover
Do not try to be glue.
Sometimes we aren’t lovable,
And there is nothing beautiful about it.
On moments when I choose to
follow Chopin’s Edna and stretch into the ocean,
I do not want you to follow me.
Do not follow me.
To love your broken lover
you may find
you can’t kiss their pieces back together
or wish they were never broken to heal them,
or stay or stay or stay at all.
To love a broken lover, you may find
you need to leave to stay whole yourself.
There is nothing romantic about it.
There is nothing lovely about the waves in a storm.
You do not have to suffer in solidarity.
Before anything else, before (me). Before your broken lover,
you are your own.