Narrowed eyes- squinted, searching
A glint of the unknown in
their depths
A grasping hand- needy, helpless
Reaching for something
now lost
Stumbling along and I call out to see you,
but I gaze at a broken reflection
shards of glass
-shards of me-
on the ground, scattered
Once one, now
the other,
I digress from the path-
no longer beating through thorns overgrown on the trail
and I cry out with gladness
-not plastic, now true-
The wax and the fake melt away, replaced
Valuable now,
different,
back to my old face
Like new as the dust is wiped away
as my person takes its stance.
A warm statue,
here forever more.