what if we all defaulted
to treating one another
like snowflakes, truly:
delicate, beautiful, unique
things of wonder
that reflect light onto one another
what if it was not
a point of shame, an insult,
to be soft and delicate,
to melt in the presence of warmth –
like the bleeding hearts in our chests –
what if we glisten so brightly
that we wear down one another’s
hardest edges, break through the ice,
and all that is left is
an infinite swirling mass
made of prismatic pieces of love,
little geometric wonders,
floating and bouncing
off one another, endlessly,
in all our vulnerable glory?