19 Jul 2016 – Puppet

Striptease of sorrows,
every broken heart’s a show,
each death a practice.

How could I have known
a poet stands without defense –
a broken puppet?

Love scrapes the shavings,
shedding all uneven scraps,
until you’re ready.

Now? Not so ready,
though, it seems, the dance is on
and no one asked me!