People
look back at their first
Love
fondly. As if that encounter
shaped their
entire love life like
The beginning of a fairy tale.
My first love/ if you can call it love/ we were two broken/ I a shattered glass jar/ & he/ a shredded teddy bear/We slid into one another’s souls/ trying to fix/ each other’s hurt.
We loved one another since we could
Not love ourselves. Suffering bled into our
Poetry kisses
And almost-love.
I said earlier/he/ a shredded/ Teddy Bear/ his eyes were/chocolate/ & childlike sweetness/ lolled with/pang of death/& torment of/‘I want to die too.’
I/ a brittle glass jar/intent on always/keep everything in/ but/ they slid from my glass fingertips/& I shattered my fragile/glass heart/ against the wall/ to stop/ feelings of/ ‘I want to die to __’/ etc.
People (I) look back at
their (my) first love fondly.
How?