Pulling Puzzles Apart

-Pulling Puzzles Apart-
by
Keaton Foster



On a table
To be shambles
An unfinished puzzle
Started long ago
Nearly every piece
Placed
The image
Once a mystery
Now
Unmistakably clear
I know it well
Oh’ the hell
I will see it always
Burnt into my core
I wish there was more
A way to express
Every finite concept
But there is not
No way
No damn how
You
Stranger true
Must take this
A silent man’s word for it
I am no breaker of truth
But rather
An exaggerator of lies
So eager am I
To dismantle
To rip it to shreds
The unfinished puzzle that is
Those shreds will be
Broken down, further indeed
Placed into a puddle of gas
Lit with a book of matches
The ashes to remain
Will be placed in a hole
As deep as forever can go
No one will again know
My dearly departed wife
The love of my life
Spent weeks
Placing each piece
She worked the edges
The perimeter was her thing
Once she was done
Once everything could be contained
She began to place the middle
All the while not knowing
What the final image would be
I wish I could have been close
When she finally could see
When she without question
Knew
I of course could see all along
Oh’ the hell
The sweet swell of her eyes
The breaking of her spine
The shattering of her heart
All of which would have left her
The love of my life as broken
As the image that she
Had just spent weeks
Tediously piecing together
Pulling puzzles apart
Is as always just a start
There is of course no ending
But rather a constant state
Of ever-evolving transgression
What she saw
Is what others have seen
I won’t tell you
I prefer the idea
Just like with her
That you’ll never really know
Of course until it’s too late
Oh’ the hell
Please take your time
Placing the outsides
The perimeter is king
The middle is for every fool
Pulling puzzles apart
As always
It’s just the start…



Pulling Puzzles Apart
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013