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A gust of rage
washed by streams of tears.
If only the mind
was a flimsy pamphlet,
I would have torn away
the memories that consume
the little hope that is left.
But it chose to be
an unwanted piece of rock,
heavy and stubborn.

I fill up the gash
left by your absence,
with smiles and kind words,
with pastries and ice-creams,
and poetry and music.
The gash remains,
but filled with tastes,
and smells and feelings,
gift wrapped in gratitude.
Healing is after all
heartbreak gift wrapped
in indifference.


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