Fragments

The glistening glitters

are shattered glass falling

each one reflecting

a singular memory:

a night at the dome,

a glass of vodka,

a thousand hundred dreams.



I shall watch each one fall

as though they are leaves

at the bottom until

each one is indistinguishable from the other

a mirror will be left of what once

were glass shattered.



And I will look

and I will see

not each memory

nor dream

but myself looking back;

I have become each part

each memory, each dream.



I am whole because of

and not despite

the fractures.