like the glue I used between 
myself and anything.
Loathing the truth that love requires loss.
Set on keeping something sacred.
Just one thing,
just once.

Nothing is sticky
like trying to keep something glued
when all the pieces keep falling apart:
over
and over.

Not one thing is stickier
than getting the glue stuck between
your fingers.
Then you stay stuck.
You can’t fix it anymore either.

Not one thing
stays stuck.

Still sticky

over and over.