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.