We commune,
We drew close for a second or three,
Becoming aware of the privileges that stained our Sunday best,
Drawn in to a confrontation with the perception of self,
Broken,
Broken,
Reformed,
Broken.
The broken body the broken mind,
The diamonds drawn up thought he vulnerabilities shared,
Hold hands and brace against the winds,
Coming to a point of construct,
Kintsugi,
aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold,
Broken,
Broken,
Reformed,
Broken.
Clear Horizon,
Past emotional residue,
Like a field of grass on a spring dawn morning
Such depth of connection forged ion the refiners fire of self
A permanence and lasting awareness
We commune
This poem was submitted as part of the LSE HE Blog’s Poetry Amnesty.
Learned Words 