The breakage was the wreckage that me saved
I left because I loved her. There it stands,
What else is there to say. A salt truth, raved
By the dancing shadow who has no hands.
The shadow, having not hands nor womb
Is fed like Hagar in the wilderness
And fights the angel, Laertes, in her tomb
He lov’d Ophelia in a Mary Quant dress.
“I cannot live with or without you”
U2, you got that right as right as rain
I am past arguing with her about what’s true
Don’t tell me sans hands to “let go” this pain.
And I let her go since I want her back
Freed from that which surrounds her, the color black.