I see myself as a snowflake,
unique, with my own design,
my own landing pattern,
as I gently fall to the ground.
I see myself as a chinese box
with faces within faces within
my own changing face.
My brother, my mother, my father
all in the puzzle, all known souls
all exist in a blink of my eye,
or the purse of my mouth.
I see myself as a mimosa seed
the twisting kaleidoscope shield;
I, alone, descended somehow collectively,
born of angles who come angels who come to see,
who fell and emerged,
who filled my first breath.