Is there anything to be said for being lost
or imperfect?
should we still sip from vessels with flaws?
Am I able to accept that it is I who dropped the glass?
and watch the cracks spiderweb
into the hearts of the people who hold me?
I call foul.
from the bottom of this mud pit
my voice floating...
'Looks like you're going the wrong way, Dorothy.
best to just stop juggling
crystal *****.'