You didn’t even meet the life
expectancy of a galvanized
gabion. Nothing quarried

could ever fill you.
In the end, I wouldn’t have satisfied
that thirst for the irretrievable—

youth, unpredictable distortions
of a scrambled mind. It was you
who thought I wasn’t ready

to be so contained. Through mesh
and shadows, I see now

where I might have been
able to tuck myself in.