today i hit
the curb & a long
piece of black plastic
fell off the bottom
of my 1993 volvo

i parked the car in
the grass & knelt down
to try to see what
it's purpose had been--

i tore free the few remaining 
shards of weathered plastic

surveyed them in my hands--

tired edge bones

is this a femur or 
vertebrae?

i left the remnant in
her trunk in case
i ever have enough
money to take her to Pepboys again

until then we'll collect 
the pieces as they break off

have i ever fractured
like this without noticing?

did someone else 
hold my scraps--
trying to find where
i broke into more
particles--

did they play wishbone?

fingernails dug into 
cement-- splintering
as the floor-boards do--

i'm thinking about
all the ikea shelves we've
made together &
the orphaned extra screws

saving them in top drawers 
& in pockets

just in case

sometimes more obscure
leftovers like
when we put together your
black wood desk & there were 
little plastic "L"s

i figure it's all
part of the plan--

that god is giving
us extra material for
a reason--

we'll wake up
swaddled in blue prints

a detailed plan of uses--

it would of course
be a test & not everyone
would have kept all these
stray remains--

you'd hug me &
kiss me 

& forgive 
me for cluttering 
cabinets--

for forgetting
which book shelf gifted
us the little baggies
of bolts--

there is of course
the other possibility

that we're missing
something

when you said you didn't
love me that March night
i opened the drawer 
& felt in the dark
for all the buttons & nails 
& dowers & screws 

if my car unravels 
on my way to the super market 
& i tumble on the asphalt
like a basket of plums

they'll find our clavicles
torn loose in the crumpled trunk 

they'll know where we came undone 

i didn't know what to want

a handful stray metal parts

i keep thinking
if i keep them all

we'll have the one we needed 

someday