Trinity, Disentegration
Mother, Father and Daughter
Three separate beings
Sharing one heart,
For a while
Until Father breaks off
A piece of Mother's heart
Fracturing the whole.
He breaks Her heart
She floats into the distance
The Daughter, the common bond
Cannot hold the center
For long.
Her Innocence is strong
It will be Broken into slivers of
Confused Agape
But She does not
Know.
Not yet.
That her heart
Is broken.
Only Hope,
A planarian
Might restore
Two halves.
What does love look like?
Is it a beautiful woman sharing
the topography of her pearl silk smooth breasts?
Being deep inside her with
emotions crashing at high tide?
Or is it an old woman
Wrinkled and fragile
paper thin membrane
of blood bruised skin.
Her cold hand framed in
winter twigs and hazy
irises and yellowing corneas
blood shot spider
webs
Lids
melting like erosion
to the ground.
The woman who knew
You before you did.
Or the full body tackling hug of a
daughter who knows
and breathes what,
for now,
is your omniscience
and strength.
Like the devout
Kneeling before "God".
She looks up at you
making faces inspiring
your hope to worthiness.
Or, the woman whose
scent was your first
and is the beginning
of the pain and emptiness
because every inhalation
is not
that
first.
And you remember
what you did not know.
Is it the person
or the idea
the experience
or the reality,
if there is such a thing,
the light of sight
the blackness of memory.
Or the silent air
entering
peacefully and fully
a mosaic
you
can
sense
only
now?
