On the subject of being remade

and i will gather you up in my hands—
all of you, every broken and scattered
piece of you that you say not to touch
because to you it is like glass
from a shattered bottle, sharp and stinging,
and maybe it is but even glass turns smooth
in the ceaseless lull of the sea—
and admire your colors in the sunshine
and your reflections in the rain.
and in return you can see the rainbows
on my skin from the prism that you are.
devotion is no more a single act
than a rainbow is a single color.
i reflect your brilliance just as much as
you do mine;
we’re sun catchers in the same window,
suspended in the light.

For this week’s newsletter, I wanted to share one of the poems I was selling at LTUE a few weeks ago. Out of the five, this one is the only one that doesn’t have a title. That’s intentional on my part, because the best titles should add something to a poem, and this poem already says everything I want it to.

Since some of you have read this already, I’ll give you a little background on the inspiration for it: I wrote this one for someone important to me, because I was trying to figure out how to tell them I didn’t mind that they felt like a mess. That they didn’t have to apologize for the way that they were, because they always said I didn’t have to apologize for being a mess either. Even sharp-edged glass has something to admire about it. Even broken people have beautiful colors. You and me.

I hope you have people that do the same for you. <3

Until next time,
Kira

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