Cut off a finger and leave it alone.
Soon you'll have not but dust and bone.
The ashes will gray and fade away.
Spread to void and lose the day.
Any puzzle piece all by itself
hides collecting dust on the shelf.
Cold and completely lost in junction
when lonely it can serve no function.
A single paint streak is accident
to mark hidden places never meant.
Dried and chipped it falls and flails
but none can hear its weakened wail.
Every finger has a hand, every piece a puzzle.
every paint has friends to know and nuzzle.
Anyone all alone is hiding, waiting for death
come out, open, commune, we will have breath.
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