My hands don't reach for you anymore

My hands don't reach for you anymore.

Have no right to.

I learned to lose you.

You are the source

and the antidote.

What breaks in a breakup?

I peel the thought of you

Off of your body

And keep you.

Is it you?

I like to think so.

Wrap you around my pain

Like a blanket.

The two ships sailing

Away opposite

Will stop moving.

I will find peace.

I will find the place

Of balance.

Laugh and cry

The tide will pass.

* * *

For creative expression

Say it in five words,

a hundred

or a thousand.

What difference does it make?

Is wordcount the judge

of poetry that is

True or Fake?

Truth coils

in mysterious ways.

Could be contained

in a book of a million page

or it might just shine through

in a simple phrase.

This poem stands

to hold the place

for creative expression.