Rutile (As Above)

 

Just as the little needles,

Inclusions, as they say,

Catch the light just so

And make this sapphire a star,

 

The broken little bits of me

That fracture the whole self,

Bending and skewing it

In their own image,

 

Do sometimes catch the light

and it might not be

entirely awful

That they were included.

 

As the parts, so the sum,

A reckless, jarring fractal

The self wholly refracting

Each of its vices and versas.

 

The stone in the roots

Is the twist in the tree,

And the scar on the bone

Is the faltering gait.

 

Each wound that I bear

Becomes the wound that I am,

And it must it must it must follow

That each flaw contains within

The flaw that created it,

 

All reality, wincing

Shining, ruined,

Pierced by a needle,

That I am.