Looking Out from Where You Once Stood

Looking Out from Where You Once Stood

The corners never turn.

No witness established

the degree of their fractured

evanescence, angles bear

the taste of swearability.

The arc of memories

arranged with patience:

bitter, moist, entangled.

A trigger that makes

the human heart bleed.

Fiction allows a corner

to be replaced (curved, bent)

so one can breathe. Answers 

the real, the vacated.

Malleable, the wall

where one was cherished.

A sense of curvature stands

where once you stood.