I wonder how many of our present relationships
are sabotaged by past intruders.
The interlopers who came
and went like the seasons.
Always basking for weeks, and then
craving change and the newness
that it momentarily made their bones feel.
Each leaving impales dents,
and those creases are forever felt.
A heart never drives
the same way again
after it crashes.
It handles differently.
It changes direction,
and takes an alternate route;
Afraid to travel the same road again.