Monday, April 9, 2012

NaPoWriMo Day 9 Bone China

bone china

more brittle than bone
more permanent

the heavy crystal stemware
she tries to stem
the tears
she’s tired

baby’s bones bend
they sway
and give
or die
and burn

but hers are porous
they absorb
they filter
sometimes the wrong things
stay behind
sometimes the right
she can’t tell which
after the lead crystal
smashes, her ankles
splashed with red wine
then she is confused
she is sure
she is certain

she is lost

she is bone
she is sponge
she is wine
she is shards
distorted light
passed through
the incandescent
moon glow
of a bone china
bread plate
not orbiting
not reflecting
only half-opaque
the light glowing
through her where
she can’t see it
but the one
holding her
up to the bulb
over the sink can

hold her
hold her tight
dry her delicately
place her in a gentle
cabinet out
of the light

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