She left me alone

with only traces of starlight

tucked away underneath my fingernails,

left from when I tore at her.

I have only traces of starlight

to pocket as mementos

of moments when I didn't tear at her

and we were sewn together.

I pocket mementos

like they are needles and thread

that I can use to sew us back together,

make our bones sing duets again.

I have neither needles nor thread

to sew myself back together.

My bones need hers to sing duets again,

and presently my bones are lonely.

I cannot sew myself back together.

Without her I am not incarnate

and my bones are lonely.

She left me alone.