Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash
Water in flashing stillness,
gloss throwing refractions
at sharp angles—it could be glass,
the kind that wants to shatter,
surrender to a perfect note. Everything that resonates
breaks. Obliviated
by splash of song.
Maybe memory means damage,
the cracks we leave in each other.
I fell for you—through you—
cut by your stained glass.
And I,
a broken mirror, bad luck for years.
And yet:
instead of staying broken, water ripples,
finds stillness again.
Will you find stillness again?
Will I?
About the Creator
Tyler Clark (he/they)
I am a writer, poet, and cat parent from California. My short stories and poems have been published in a chaotic jumble of anthologies, collections, and magazines.
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Comments (1)
Wooohooooo congratulations on your honourable mention! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊