To Make a Place Or Room For
What is it like,
to be a broken thing?
A glass,
carelessly chipped
on the edge of
the sink;
a plate
smashed in anger.
To be placed
at the back of
the kitchen cabinet
and forgotten,
or swept out with the
trash on Tuesday.
Careful, we whisper,
ashamed.
I am sharp.
Do not cut yourself
on my jagged edges.
Until one day,
if fortune is kind,
we meet someone
and find,
their edges
fit with ours:
like your hand
in mine.
Copyright © A.M. Demotte | Year Posted 2021
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