Pieces

Are you single?

The question sounds normal, but the answer tastes alien.

Single:

one whole.

I haven't been single for whole years

Cracked—

more every time I kiss myself a Happy New Year,

Splintered—

sometimes

everyday

a new fissure in me.

Fault lines lace and lance my skin, and they may—

shatter me

at the softest

touch

#poetry, #single,