Clean up on aisle 8…

but I couldn’t.

The tools needed missing

to repair the broken.

She, standing silent while he cursed,

and  slammed the rice to the floor.

Spirits shattered?

He,

roaring into life and

removing her essence.

She,

running  away down the aisle,

Hovering not far,

While he,

brings forward transference

to elicit counter transference of  my sympathy,

None forthcoming with my offer to

drive her away to a safe place , while he

holds tight the shatters to create a

Whole of his making,

while shoppers look the other way.

And they finally go,

All of the while

remaining shattered

and I return to my shopping.

 

Advertisements
Published in: on October 19, 2010 at 8:31 am  Comments (9)  
Tags: , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: