Can a glimmer set a spark
within this woe-chipped vessel?

Can a glint survive distress
voraciously nibbling 
at its corner?

Or will force of brittle
jammed tight against
swelter
push it to crack,
caving in.

Shocked
but entirely unsurprised—
the greater the morbid gorges,
the larger my whole becomes.

I think the hope may kill me,
in the end,
but I can't seem to stop
taking it. 

By Laura Benn