Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?
Legend had it that they were of the same soul. She would have missed her, even if she hadn’t met her.
What do you do with the left over you?
They had pulled apart each vestigial plaster and only they knew how the other looked beneath it all, each mark of a bad day etched like constellations on their skins.
Where does the good go, where does the good go?
But then with the music turned up, they danced; she, at one end of the city, she, at another. They both knew, always, without a word exchanged.
Look me in the heart and tell me you won’t go.
After all it had all started there – two whispers piercing towards each other in a crowded room. They could always complete each other’s whispers.
Look me in the heart and unbreak broken.