A beautiful, grand jigsaw.
The puzzle’s near impossible, but there is a solution.
Its exact, one thousand pieces, just a simple complexity.
And when in a few hours I’m done I have a pretty picture.
A fine old oil painting, reassembled on my table.
Complete and finished.
Sweetly satisfying jigsaw.

This is a different puzzle and the scene
Is a beach. No thousand pieces:
A million, billion, trillion, grains of sand in the wind and tide
To move them around every day without a solution
I can never finish the picture
Or have it in front of me, assembled and concluded;
My jigsaw is a trinket made to be solved and you’re
A thing beyond human understanding. Ever.
No matter how much I want to,
How frustration burns and freezes for the rest of my life
When I could complete a thousand jigsaws...

Which is why jigsaws are children’s toys,
And I love you.