This life is a thin mirror.
I tense—it cracks and
splinters—out of control.
Refractions of glass
reveal my scared face,
before its glittering shards
scatter across the floor.
Under the table,
in the rug,
behind the cabinet,
they hide until
their appointed time—
lodging in their
new home at
my heel.
God,
can you
still make
your
mosaic with all these
broken
pieces?