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I never knew I was so fragile

that I’d be reduced to pieces

like a china cup

at one knock.

Neither did I know

those living close to my heart

were all Kintsugi artists.

They lovingly collected

all the shards, that was my soul

and mended with words of gold.

Now I’m a Kintsugi vase,

broken yet whole.



Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Kintsugi: Art of mending