dear Boy,
trust this letter
to find us well
amidst numb and glaze
midnights cautious about
stars, wish i may,
wish not
to be here
for your mother cries
up the stairs,
unobstructed
view from here
left with holes
jigsaw cut missing
the poodle
and you
my one who
hasn't left but is gone
twice as far
as halved sorrow
which they say
is shared
like cupcakes
between the girl who
loves frosting
and the girl who
does not
in compromise
we sometimes find
joy.
sincerely
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