Your kiss
making the broken
eggshell of my mind
invisibly mend itself
a scrambled egg no longer
making the spilt milk
of my feelings
jump like an acrobat
back into the bottle
the shattered glass
stitch itself perfectly
molecule to molecule
until one
couldn’t
discern
(with the naked eye)
the where or when or how
it had all fallen apart
your kiss
stuffing the stuffing
back into
the cuddly toy
my torn heart
the little stitches
looking like little x’s
x x
x x
x
they smile
your kiss dressing the world
in your laughter.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-mother-s-kiss/
