Glass Poem by Sarah Sisson

Glass



It as a liquid form of glass.
A dangerous yet useless concoction.
The broken edges that splintered
away have rejoined the state
of bliss. Now, a new
piece in transit, I work to get
the next chapter underway with
a fragile and thin newness.
This glass in my chest.
It is my heart.

copyright 01-18-2009©® Sarah Sisson

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