Thursday, 6 December 2012


I carry a jigsaw piece in my pocket
because I’ve lost the other nine hundred and ninety nine pieces.

I don’t remember what it made
or where it went.

But I look at it sometimes
and hold its tiny arm between my fingers.

It has a red corner (but don’t we all?),
and it’s blue at the bottom (if you hold it the right way),

and the rest is purple
which is really just red mixed with blue.

It could have been the lips that join a kiss.
It could have been the dagger in the dead man’s back.

It could have been a picture of happiness
or maybe I’m holding it upside down.

It doesn’t matter what it was.
But I keep it with me

because I am looking for other lost jigsaw pieces
to link arms and make a picture

where red becomes green and yellow and blue and
when I look at it, it could mean something or everything or nothing

 if only I had another piece.

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