Fractured Heart 2

Spare a kind word for

the fractured heart,

ever to be an open wound,

that seeps the past, and

runs to soft and crumble

the mortar of each new love;

that trickles the invisible,

the forlorn, from cold skin,

its plume left to its want

until few grains remain;

to build another tower

of shadows, on sands

doomed to fall by the

slow shift of fantasy.