It should be a fond remembrance of you.
Yet I leave it on the sidewalk
isolated, trampled, wet, dirty
the way I felt when I was with you
You were tickled, nurtured, aroused
I was angry, resentful, disinterested
You felt the energy of the being that the object previously adorned
Free to soar at will
I felt confined by our closeness
chained and grounded by painful memories
I leave it on the sidewalk
so that I can be free at last.
The Becoming of M.T.B. 
Great post. Hope you’ll visit mine too. Cheers. 🙂
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Thank you so much…yours is my first Like…I will visit your blog…
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