Inspired by a text conversation with Spencer Gee.

“You have a lot on your plate”

a friend texted

as I apologized for asking

to reschedule plans and

getting mixed up on the details.

“I keep dropping and breaking the plate”

I typed back.

Panic was sitting in my stomach

curled up and comfy like a cat

clawing at my innards and wrapping

its tail around my chest

constricting my breathing.

I keep dropping things; how 

can I keep picking them back up?

“Broken plates make for the most beautiful kintsugi”

flashed across my phone screen.


pottery reassembled.

New art from mistakes.

Instead of tossing shattered shards

in the trash, lovingly

gathering, gluing together

and integrating error and

imperfection into transformation.


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