something fragile.

i've spent most of my life
trying to find peace
when broken pieces of the earth
unfold in front of me.
when the holes in my shoes
are the blisters of my heart,
searching for patches
of perfect pavement.

but i keep finding pieces of love
scattered across the ground like glass
as tourists pass in speeding cars,
splashing each poem that shuffles by.

in Charleston,
pieces of history clutter the streets.
and love is a hurricane
that tore down my walls long ago.
each violent wind
breaks off a piece
of my soul,

so i am left
trying to find peace
among the shards of sexuality,
the fragments of foolishness,

the aftermath of affection.