Dear Inner Circle,

Rarely do I write poetry and never have I shared a poem with you.
I wrote this poem for a man who breaks my heart.

The Prodigal

There is no such thing as a single human being
We are saved or lost together
We’d rather be lost with you than saved without you
There is no such thing as a private act
Every human act is witnessed

Come home
The Universe didn’t abandon you
You abandoned it
Come home
When we meet
Your eyes show you are in a faraway country
Excessive comfort has emptied you, dissipated you
Now you beg me for coins, the pods upon which pigs feed
So come home
Our neck is craning in hope of your return
The magnolia that shades you is standing up straight
Hoping you’ll notice
The breeze that lightly kisses your face
The sun that warms your bones
We’re all waiting, looking, hoping

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