Porcelain

Porcelain skin, glimmer and shine – your tears are jewels too. You hold virtue, like sinew; clouds checkering the scarlet horizon. Is it blood or heart you hide? Brilliance cast out darkness, but shadows stand behind pillars holding the roof of the illuminated. Shade steeps your spirit with neglected wisdom. A shame you feel it stymies you. Porcelain sculptures need blue paint. Seeds need soil, it ain't dirty. A pot must have its pit to be filled with water, so dalias can drink & stand & shine, like you. Porcelain skin, you ain't so delicate— hardened at hundreds of degrees. Fuck purity. Fuck care, fuck fear, fuck holding it together. Fuck the light, fuck the dark, being bashful, being brave, being pretty, or seeing something certain ways. Cut me up like your shards. Inspire me like the sum of your parts. Or even just some of your parts. You're beautiful. I say fuck that too. Good. Fuck me. What do I know about you?