becomings

mythological trail of heartbeats

she breaks hearts
like she breaks
bread, gnawing &

soft, follows
the trail
of heartbeats

as it grows
more obliquely
spaced, slowing.

she is searching
for a place to rest
among the wreckings;

she is silent,
like an empty
tattoo, like a bruise

on a thigh. she is
chewing up her past,
tearing it in tiny pieces

and swallowing.
it is fibrous,
absolving, like a train

whistle, like you
in bed on saturday
mornings. she

still dreams of snow
and red dresses, of
the stuffed bear

he left when she left:
please don’t go
again.