I am not a whole.
I am a sum of small parts,
cracked and scattered
across linoleum floors.
I will be loved in pieces,
strung together with twine.
Before my body bursts once more,
over flowing with warmth and ache.
You will love me for my pieces,
sharp edges, blisters,
drawing blood from your fingertips.
My heart a prism, catching light
rainbows tumble across
the very same linoleum floors.