Colour-Woven Kaleidoscope

My marble lives on the mantelpiece
It probably shouldn’t be there
It sits on a plastic chair, framed by trophies, scattered achievements
A little foreign glasswork, bought in a dull market
but it had a life of its own. So I
paid the nice man; scooped up the pretty marble
I thought I could live in my marble’s fierce world
Maybe I did. Maybe I still do.
After all, every time I see the sparkling red crystals
I think of blood, of crimson spills staining pool water
Tiny floods running down a knee, but I’m… alright!
And that pool! glistening, like the sweat on my wrists
Reflecting in the shattered disks
Purple broken by roses, pastel icing
A coral reef, an imposing city, pink faces
A colour-woven kaleidoscope
of everything,
everyone,
that I really am.