In the museum of broken relations
The wall placards are edged in black.
The air is chill in the gloomy rooms.
Everything on display can be touched,
the details explored, conjectures made.
But not one thing can be repaired.
The wall placards are edged in black.
The air is chill in the gloomy rooms.
Everything on display can be touched,
the details explored, conjectures made.
But not one thing can be repaired.