My words are chopped and sliced
in half, before reaching the end
of the disencumbered thought
a fragmented memory
dismembered a long time ago,
I’m not too sure.

I try to catch her eyes
before the start of her
jumbled sentence leaving
a puzzled look, but with
a curled frown or
smile,
I’m not too sure.

None of my words look
formed in my
sentences but I love her
endlessly without a
Full stop.