chip

not a chunk.
more of a pinch.
but cuts away a small portion.
from something that gives way.
and lets go of another thing.
that started way back.
that endured every bump on boulders.
lined up on the path i call 'the wonderfully unplanned lie'.
like a portion of a ticket torn away.
or a negative space from a painted bucked tooth.
it is that one put aside.
in the confines of the chamber of a kind hearted man.
and there it will house and grow itself.
together with the other one he's bound to be welded to.
all the days of his life.