The Cornflakes Tasted Better
When Jordan Was On The Box

What can say, I still love her

I smile with knowledge:
joy and sorrow with teeth
recollect memories
of a multiplied heart

fire in chains
escape chains
to forge chains

delicate, fragile
impossible to determine
who is the captor
and who—the held

shoppers just want to see
the brand name anyway

label label label label

some chains snap
some disintegrate
some were never chains 
to begin with
just tassels of gold
adorning our necks
the ends held by
merchants who shout
Very Nice
as we glance sidelong
in a dirty mirror
asking how much
wondering
what we’re
willing to pay