birth of mosaic
when you pulled me from the
hearth limb by limb, i was still
crackling with the fire that
melded my bones from bare
elements, too young to wonder
what stars perished for you
to be born and claim the skies,
your lungs stretched taut
from volume of the universe
and skin somehow unscathed by
the heat of my body coming to life.
like laundry strung on a quiet line,
you left me to dry by the fireplace
and never returned to see the scorch
marks i left on your floor,
teaching me to stand even when
i was broken in my own unformed hands.
i sewed my pinky next to my
ring finger with the silvery thread
you hid in the workshop, wanting me
to bleed searching for the sheer possibility
to be whole, and every second, i was quiet,
even as the needlepoint pierced my skin.
but for the rest of my life,
i would wonder if i ever walked with the
entirety of myself or if there were
still some shards of me scattered
in the drawers of your dusty desk,
some shards of me running amok
in the flames that created me in
your image, some shards of me with
which i will never make acquaintance:
maybe it is better this way.
@ellowrites @ellopoetry @apoem_4u #poetry #poem
