I try to pull myself      together          wind the perfect string of pearls

rose-tinted      like my sweater         like        a set of wine-stained teeth

around my neck. As if you’d care.     I view you        through the window glass.

Outside                        you stack wood for hours       battling wind and ghosts

then rake dead leaves.                                                         I only see black.

Can’t settle      down to work.    Some       thing         inside me      is broken.

I search on my phone:             “When something inside is broken”

1.      Gather wildflower seeds, all different, like pearls
2.      Enclose them in potting dirt, rich and black
3.      Inhale the warm smell until it sinks into your teeth
4.      Imagine daisies and phlox spiralling up like ghosts

I dream the flowers wave at me     as I drive enraptured       peering through the car glass.

I break             from my reverie,          sip wine from the glass.

The smile fades.    You swear   at the rake       in your hand       that has broken.

We pass each other    at the door     silent as ghosts.

Things I might say,     suggestions          wisdom          pearls

are not welcome.        A bad taste lingers         in my mouth my       teeth.

Our future                               together                               only black.

Never mind.    I get busy,      throw the seed packets to the roadside                        black

drive    slowly to watch them land       through the car glass

I run my tongue          slippery           over newly brushed teeth.

The packets land in the mud               but they were made                to be broken

I return,           to myself         to the house,    softened by      rain droplets of pearl

I see you standing       in the living room      a shade of your former self         a ghost.

We were alive              in each other              once                 before we were ghosts

Again              buzzing honeybees      look for colour            in the black

I reach out to you                                my pearls

clink       as you press me      against the mirror glass

you stare into my eyes            and I’m afraid.   Am I             still broken?

 I smile            to conceal       how I feel           with shiny white teeth.

Your mouth warm on mine, your lip against my tooth

You are solid, muscle and bone          I feel you warm and heavy,             nothing like a ghost

The seedpod has broken         feelings grow up         push-up out of blue soil          black

our faces turn toward the sun  like orchids     through the greenhouse glass

 we walk down the road         cliffs echo our laughter,    peals     pearls   

       

rich black soil, dotted with seed pearls            that split open and grow wild

my tooth clinks                 the water glass as                   I drink it all in

we can be        broken     we can         work:        perfection is the ghost.