Poem

When you break the ice you can see it’s imperfections, a perfect flat disk of smoothly frozen peace transformed into unique work of jutting, sharp art when it freezes back over. For some this could this could be seen as a loss of their peace, irreparable damage to the perfect persona they’ve meticulously created to fit the mold. But for a lucky few it could be exactly what they need, what they’ve silently pined after, a transition from a mask that is smoothed at every edge into a jagged and imperfect new reflection in the mirror, far from their plan, but now they can smile.