Broken Spirit and Splintered Dream
sucked air through sagging skin.
They rattled around between cold bones
searching for a spot to call their home.
"Over here," Spirit cried out.
"This might start a good nest."
He plucked a sturdy silver hair,
Dream grabbed another, to make a pair.
"How dare that heart cast us out?"
Dream grabbed another hair.
"Worn out doesn't mean obsolete,
just makes us a little harder to see."
"Oh, pay him no mind," Spirit replied.
"What does that old fool know?
He thumps his chest, then takes a rest
snuggled behind a nice warm breast."
Dream nodded and braided the hair,
worked up quite a frisk.
She batted her eyes, bit her lip,
suggested they take an unplanned trip.
"If we join forces one more time
we'll lick that old ticker.
Penis is only a few feet south,
I'll bet we can entice him out."
Spirit forgot his broken state,
Turned a somersault.
He said, "That won't be my only trick,
if you can wake up that lazy prick."
Dream threw on her favorite costume,
spruced up to fantasy.
Spirit consulted backbone,
in case he couldn't do it alone.
Together, they tracked Adreneline
oiled the rusty joints,
Spirit drove life into the muscles,
and Dream outlined new goals
Proud of all they'd accomplished,
the pair sat down to rest.
He took her hand and squeezed it tight.
She said, "I think that's enough for tonight"
(This republishing in the spirit of the "new Gather" is getting easier. I managed to control the urge to look this over carefully and see if there were any improvement I could make.)