I’ve made truces with the idea
You didn’t need me before the day I avoided
Your eyes..
While you stared me down like hawk eyes its prey…
Hearts are made for escapism….
To a place of private delights that privy us to the
Grand Concourse
Of constant
Discourse
I’ve mended what once was broken,
I know the pieces and how this puzzle fits…
It’s glued inside a bulletproof glass case.
