If I fell once,
I fell twice.
Under the glow of moonlit eyes,
It’s hard to see
And even worse to be heard,
But I am here in flesh and form,
A solid apparition,
Phantasmic evidence of a hollow hour.
When I cannot be believed,
Or believe in my own existence,
Glass reflections insist I am not a lie,
But I see no face on me.
So take me in and make me whole;
All the pieces that crumble in the rain
Save them in a plastic bag,
Set them under the sun and let them dry.
Though warped and bent and incomplete,
Take my pieces, one by one;
Catch them as they fall across the summer sand.
Keep them close,
Keep me close,
And we can make the shapes again.