Cyan

I was wrong
you can
un love;

unpick a seam.

That which you
yearn for
no longer
exists
I myself, unpicked it.

The cut and pierced fabrics
from your mind
won’t mend it,

but sure

make the memory,
sew it as yours
all the colours of your liking,
all your favourite threads

pretend it’s love
whatever you need to stitch
for yourself

give yourself solace
give yourself a little half smile
when you need it most.