Kintsugi

​

What if our hearts 

were repaired like 

the Japanese fix their pottery?

Broken shards pieced back

Together, reassembled and 

trimmed with gold in the 

breaks and chips. 

 

And if that were so,

my shattered heart 

must be recast, 

Plated in molten gold

To wholly encase every 

hairline crack and ragged edge

Grief has been my Midas touch.

 

And wouldn’t it be beautiful 

To sing that my heart is

Made of gold. 

And somehow I know

It is already composed

Of a heavy, precious metal.

I feel it’s weight holding me back.

 

But gravity is an illusion

As the universe swirls around us

My golden heart keeps

Me grounded, here.

But my soul will soar

More precious in and 

out of a material world.

xoxo, L

​

a photo series with Strome Photo