Broken hearts mend slow,

and words that were kept,

spoken. Gently rested

upon the ears of  her

beautiful. He cannot imagine

any other


They touch, gentle as words in a place

where time holds gently those two who

are not allowed to breathe. She does not

run and he is careful. So careful not to break

the one who he is now broken for… not broken


Lips hold a careful breeze between best friends

while frogs chatter and rain falls upon their faces with

fingers laced together. Risking a moment for a moment

more, they linger… and the night goes on.

There is no place to say what becomes of the broken

few who know this dance. Caution weighing heavy where

the danger becomes worth the risk to a heart broken that

no longer wishes to bend, and would rather

become broken anew.

© Michael Barry 2013