Read Love Poems


by Sean Allen

I woke up this morning.
It's been six months
that I've had that puzzle
laying out on the table...

I started by pouring
all the pieces from my heart.
I'll confess there's an art
to sifting through the gaps
and Lord knows there's no lack
of holes in my spirit-
parts missing of my soul-
and all that I'm left with
is my final goal:

to complete this damn puzzle
that I had started alone,
the one that you messed up
and, for reasons unknown,
stole the final piece,
the one I kept
at the deepest of depths;
I can only hope
I'll find a replacement one yet.

But I know if I see you
that you'll silently smile
as you watch me realize
what you knew all the while:
the piece that is missing
you didn't steal, but received;
I wanted to blame you,
but the fault lies with me.

So by the end of the day
I'll lay back in bed,
shivering and shaking
from the cries in my head:
that the puzzle of hearts
that I'd foolishly begun
will never be finished,
will never be done.