Lauren Lessard

The thing is, you can’t break what’s been broken.
All you can do is look at the pieces,
scattered on the floor, soon forgotten,
and call it what it is.
And boy, you do it so well.

At what point did our story first fracture,
or were we always the fool’s errand?
Why couldn’t I guild the fissures,
prevent the sharp drop, the dead love’s end?
I’m all precious intent, but not enough mettle.

I can’t fault the call,
I’m just heartbroken to the core.
We were once beautiful, I think – even if the colors were dull,
the application unskilled, the canvas worn.
What a pair we made, well met but mismatched.