a piece of me, a fractured piece of me
and a piece of you, just as jagged
they try to fit to together
–teeth of mismatched gears–
where motion should be smooth
instead the sound of snapping glass bones
screams of angels with cinder wings
bits and pieces falling wetly to the floor
the machinery stops so we mop up the blood
and try again
each time there is less and less of me left
each time there is less and less of you left
this is why we break
unevenly matched where there should be symmetry
but when the gears meet at last–we transcend
Words and Feathers 
WOW! Another gem. Charles, you sure know how to string those amazing words together — diamond necklaces would be so jealous!! ⍟ ❥ ツ ღ ☻
Thank so much. I think I just hit a nerve or get lucky sometimes. 😀
You’re being too modest. It’s called “talent,” and that never goes away, but I believe it gets sharper the more we write.
Thank you again. Most people who know would say I have a giant ego.
You? Hmm… maybe they meant a gigantic something else… perhaps your beak?? 🙂
Ha ha.
This hit me hard. I love the imagery of worm gears and angels, blood loss and diminishment. One of your great ones.
Thanks. That means s lot. Getting a lot of reaction to this one.