missing piece

i wonder how long this will all hold out for, this delicate balance that sees me perched precariously on the edge of the precipice. the threads that hold me together are tight with the tension, and i fear that just that wee bit more tension will break everything i've been working so hard to pull together. there is no fat cat in my garden today to distract me, no woodpecker hovering around the tree. it's just me and my thoughts, wishing the tepid breeze would chill itself into something slightly more wintry. shadows still dance on the pink garden wall, though - slipping into each other and changing the fundamental shape of its being. the sun blazes a strange amber today, casting an orange light onto the grass blades. the air is thick with it - can't you just taste it? it's tingling on my tongue, in my nostrils, and i'm awash in it. nothing, nothing you do can take this away from me, my mind is my sanctuary and my haven. even if the world should stop revolving, spinning slowly down to die, i'd spend the end with you, & still choose this over anything else. rainbow-swirled paddlepops and crushed kiwi smoothies make my heart soar, even as i wish that the paddlepop never melts and the smoothie never finishes. but as i said before, the paddlepop must melt, the smoothie must reach the bottom of the cup.

so the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle fit perfectly together, save that one missing piece at its heart that spoils the undeniably perfect fit.