We all have our missing pieces,
Elsewhere before we rest,
A repining second gives no comfort,
Repenting hearts digress, they search.
I am knowing of my pursuits, not bellicose,
She is not too close…
It is my right to rid my success of failure’s ghosts,
I am choked—
By the past I once wrote,
To know that she is knew,
And an ear for the untrue,
She remains…in time, alone.
She, still remains, my missing piece,
My missing peace,
My missing breath,
I’m listening deaf,
To a success story told,
From her eyes of glass and tongue of cold,
Gold…hair, brown eyes,
Still voice, unties—
Knots in the womb.