Tuedsay Night Post #41 / by DBL

Broken Ones,
Good night.


*     *     *     *     *

There’s a shoulder
An arm to go along
Existence trails on the realization that there is a hand
A thumb with sharp pain
This I remember
The real that is me turns
As I step on the edge of the steps that
Flow below
My thoughts are on the step I have not taken
Altered views show process is
Not a thought
when hands run on the surface of what I am
I remember also
This is not what it means
but begins as it starts
In the end
There is
a foot with a brother that is the left
Not forgotten but easily replaced
Prosthetics are
 but a replacement of
what we wanted to hold on to
Taken is a part
of the whole
that does not effect the new
At end of this new I hired a friend
She made a crate
66x24x12in h
there I put the me that that I seem to lose
the thing that always seems askew