I refuse to give up,
in this world of glass,
where promises made
are too often shattered.
Yet I am so afraid—
to be open, to feel joy,
to stop scanning the room
for all the ways
you could break me.
In your eyes,
I am rib and bone,
blood and tissue—
but you are wrong.
For I am forged
from stranger things:
The delicate spine
of a Spring flower,
birdsong and laughter,
the breathless echo
of a stolen kiss...
and the final words
of a condemned man,
hopelessly crying
for his mother\'s arms.