house of cards

On each occasion that I find balance, I think of you

and your desires. I wonder if fragility entices

your muscle. If frailty exhilarates you. I question if

you’re also building a house of cards in a way

that’s vital to your own healing. Do you look at me, 

and wonder why, daily, I’m taunting clear collapse? Imagine

I have already befriended failure. Pretend that I labour

for a greater purpose. I am crafting a measure;

a thermometer of hearts and diamonds. An instrument

of hope; crafted from clubs and aces. It will fall down for

millennia. It will scatter, until one day, it will stand

and be a testament to patience. It will indicate

that spite has held back a breath

to protect our restoration.

© Mollie Mardel