Purchase: 9-1-2019

The necklace is blue,

Not like the sky, but like recycle bins

Obnoxious, attention-seeking

Your favourite colour

An old spinning wheel, dusty and broken

Abandoned on a rickety shelf

The metal prick is still wicked sharp 

The blood on my index a testament to this fact

How can  I not think of you?

The bear sags in places where the stuffing

Has been lost; faux fur absent in quite

A few places; A “press me” note next to it

Its paw is cold, but  I squeeze it earnestly

A faint whir from its chest, a click, silence

An empty box where a heart might’ve gone

Such useless things, dangerous even

Of course, I take you home