The breakup was unexpected,
like a fissure in the fabric of time.
There it goes flying high,
making vapour trails in the sky.
A neat little tear that happens
to be beyond repair.
Sit-down, standup, walkabout –
fill a private room with doom.
The likes of which will wrangle,
writhe and shift, until things settle –
like angel dust in a vacant space.
August 31, 2017
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