this pathway has been buried;
they’ve poured almost-dried cement
into this tunnel with broken pieces
of my lantern.
shattered china dolls perched
on the wall, their arms were once
perfect, a forty-five degree angle
now she implores you with painted eyes,
hollow shell broken. you lied.
this disarray of splintered porcelain, pair of
once flawless lips,bright red paint falling,
you didn’t catch me.
and i connect these dots to form
the outline of your face, but
i cannot find a burst of wings or