Here we are again: In the fetal position, curled up in poetry’s warm embrace, trying to put back together the two halves of our fractured hearts.
Along the way, we swapped a broken piece or two by accident. And so, here we are now, trying
to go about our lives with Frankenstein hearts, wondering why it hurts to breathe when we’re far apart.
L. V., i found this poem in a local paper's lost-and-found section