i walk through the isle and pick up every color that i like the glass cold in my hands smooth under my fingertips clean before my fingerprints picking up each piece not even bothering to be careful of the jagged edges blood reds sky blues pale greens golden yellows i cradle each as they represent my past place them gently in my basket and move on i take them home i place them on the floor and play which goes where this goes here until my mosaic is complete it must be perfect for this will eternally represent me what holds the glass together representing all that holds me together in all my experiences and colorful pieces