Fissures and cracks span chasms 

on x-ray screens, translucent skeleton 

in various shades of shattered. 

Simple injuries from quiet missteps  

and accidents drawing onlookers’ gaze 

sculpt healthy structures to rifts and fractures.  

My break resembled more of a crescent than a crevice, 

tiny lunar phase ripped from revolution with  

night-light shine, a little celestiality within me. 

For months my sliver stood in separate stasis, 

a painfully jinxed puzzle piece  

waiting to be placed back in its planet. 

Slowly my sinew began to heal, frost over  

in zealous rejuvenation  

with strings of doubled strength, 

aching quaking muscles relaxed 

and tendons let go of their loves, 

with the inevitable aid of time  

my vessel repaired its crested canyon 

with force and fusion 

I could not feel.