We're made of the many pieces that humanity has put together

To call ourselves each one of the other

A mosaic

An amalgamation of procured vessels, just ripe for sampling

Is not entirely insane.

Faces and names disappear, curl up into the pupils of our eyes

And sometimes we can't help but absorb, then divide 

Like raindrops down the car window

Into districts and class

Though here, the rich and the poor

Share the same amenities 

The beating heart

Of highways and dead ends.

A soul at the crossroads

No wonder we bear kaleidoscopic holes

There's no mirror to reflect on who we are

Only a window

Pieced together

With stained rainbow glass.

Originally this was the summary of the collection before I shifted gears.