These bits and ends
fit together
like a Dadaist jigsaw puzzle
no bauble to fix
or whole to piece together from broken ends
or that beginning
that I have burned a candle for
some moment of temptation
a window to the outside world
with bright sun and percussive beaches
gone dark
tidal waves and hot tubs
a skinny dip in that promiscuous ink jar
to code my heart in texts
coat my hurt in symbols
break my bread
drop a crumb
in case I want to come home again