I needed you

to be perfect

being my very

last chance

so I stood at

the workbench

goggled and gloved

and crafted you

from leftover lumber

and half-bent nails

piled in the corner

that I’d used

and given up upon

in the failed

creation of love

jigsaw and mallet

nicked knuckles

and pounded thumb

I measured twice

and cut once and with

paint covering spackle

these rebuilt remains

of loves lost

slowly became my

perfectly imperfect

stick figure you

copyright 2013 Steven Harz

please check out my book of poetry and short fiction titled “Songs you can’t dance to”

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