I found a puzzle.
I opened the stale cardboard box
and smelled the new book smell
held in the 4 walls of that puzzle.
I started piecing together
the image that became my life
and then I stumbled upon piece
Like no other I'd ever seen.
It was beautiful. It out shone
the sun and the stars.
I was scared of this piece
How could I not be afraid
of the purest perfection?
I spent years working on the puzzle
slowly getting used to the one piece.
But then the puzzle was stolen, with
only one piece away
from utter completion.
from utter completion.
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