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a broken shape

— Benjamin McPherson Ficklin

a polygon with all its lines obliterated           points flung across a desolate plane

          they don’t trust me           & today, again, she said I don’t love her enough

which is perhaps the same thing, alas,           honest & devastating, hurtful & hurt

          with all of me trying           hard to be radiant for all of you

nothing as something as nothing, a solid void           stagnant waterfalls careening over

          flat precipices: dying, dehydrated, crawling           across the ocean desert, the mirage

of the oasis on the horizon           erupting into a helix (a helix) of flame


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