if i am but ashes

if i am but ashes

if i am but dust

how can I expect to transcend

if i am an image

of an everlasting love

then how can I hurt, can I sin

but if i am a shard

of kristallnacht stained-glass

i am broken, and beautiful, at once

gentle, my edges,

they sting and draw blood

even as I can color the sun

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