I Am No Stranger to Fragmentation, My Love

̶  Jessica Nirvana Ram

Like the Madonna in stained glass,

I too allowed myself to be broken

into blue fractals.

I segmented my fingers further

as I tried to hold my child,

knowing he’d be broken as well.

We allow others to decide

which shapes go together after

the initial shattering,

to decide if the crown should

stake into our foreheads

or rest gently in our hair.

My love, you weren’t the first

to decide I could become smaller,

could become a martyr for you,

but you were the first to see

the broken disc of light

behind my head and not cry

from staring at it too long.

You just wanted me to become

more than a beacon on a hill,

more than a lamb underneath

a tree. You wanted me to continue

the cycle of breaking and restoring,

and you wanted others to gaze upon

my broken light and know that

it would be their fate as well.

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Alex Carrigan (he/him) is a Pushcart-nominated editor, poet, and critic from Alexandria, VA. He is the author of Now Let’s Get Brunch (Querencia Press, 2023) and May All Our Pain Be Champagne (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). He has appeared in SoFloPoJo, Cotton Xenomorph, Bullshit Lit, HAD, fifth wheel press, and more. Visit carriganak.wordpress.com or follow him on Twitter @carriganak for more info.