Have you ever heard the muted whistle of a broken heart?
It is like a sigh, a release of air.
Like a punctured tire, lifeless under a vehicle’s unforgiving weight;
Like the song of a lonely siren, with no one left to seduce, or comfort;
Like the panting of a dying doe, beauty yielding to death, yielding again to beauty.
When all that is left of the mauling of grief,
is a tiny opening, stubborn, unwilling to heal.
Breathe in,
Breathe out.
Air in,
Air out.
Memories in,
Pain out.
The wind chimes of eternity stir far away.
The vast waves come in persistent,
but a solitary sandcastle remains.
