Kintsugi
The breaks on my soul
Are only ever repaired
Slowly.
Old pieces
Of the broken bowl,
Fixed
Back into their usual places
With silver. With gold.
Molten laces gleaming
Across my chest,
Across my beard,
And spreading from the corners of my eyes.
So love this. will start looking for your book.
Good poem! I appreciate the kintsugi metaphor, healed scars are the gold mined from the past.
If you liked this one he’s published a book on Amazon called ‘Aftermath’.