You edited your life entirety,

leaving spaces to insert joy or discovery,

a butterfly wing broken and dusty

or a spoon engraved

with initials you’ve forgotten,

but what’s fallen through the holes

in the negatives is a long list of whys.

You can try to backtrack

to that crossroads

or maybe it was the one before

to see what deal you made,

what devil lingers,

but the signposts have been removed.

It’s impossible to pinpoint

where it all went wrong.

Once a star, full of multitudes,

your movie flickers out 

as the reel snaps.

You grasp in the dark for the tail of it,

certain you can find a way back.

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