I’ve ripped apart the whole
And put the pieces in
These nicely labeled boxes.
The parts that displease you,
I store in the attic, I hide them
Away, I swallowed the key.
I keep my cleaver sharp, stainless
Stings, swings swiftly slicing surely.
Absolute amputation of offense.
This wraith with the reticent smile,
The bruised eyes, her existence
Still stings, love just salt in the wound.