If We May Just

The frame is empty,
love, my face hath
been thus removed
as a flea
from fluffy,
and there upon the rug

to ash
I metamorphose;

victim of memory
a dime short of remembrance,
tossed aside

as an old
science project
with my globes off,
shattered
across some field
against the reeds
that grow as my inveighs do,

Our heart, lest
beats no beat
just a feeling thereof,
like nothing really,
we are none
no longer one

look my love,
my face hath
thus been removed.

- By Raeez Jacobs

© Raeez Jacobs. 2012. All Rights Reserved.