Broken pieces shattered,

From the stained glass masterpiece we once were.

The smallest piece resting where we owe our meeting,

Hundreds of others wandering past.

Two others hidden away at a gem of the East side,

Sparkling in the cosmic light of our hide away.

Several tucked into the cushions of your couch,

Lost in the comfort of your presence, I envy them.

Most left in between the sheets of my lonely slumber,

Sharp edges tear into the thick layer of denial.

My favorite piece left behind in your bed,

Sleeping beneath the pillows remembering the nights.

The final pieces within ourselves,

Intertwined and connecting us.

I once wanted my pieces returned,

But instead a new masterpiece has been created.

I’ll place my final piece within,

The center of new art owed to you.