Broken

It’s said people cannot be broken

But we know better

With our blackened ballerina toes

And fine-tipped pens bent by too much pressure;

We sweep up the contents of a kitchen

Betting on kintsugi.

While the experienced accept the jagged edges

The parts of whole

The novice ignores the imbalance

Believes twisting lines cannot make a man

Again.

We, weak

We, fragile

We, caught by the cat and edged to hole

Believe anew,

Experts once more

In the building of a new animal