What holds (26 November)

Are these broken or breaking?

Inhale first from this basket
fresh-gathered tears plucked
new yesterday, a wilting harvest.

Or touch uncracked glass,
its hollow form whispering
a single note before it fragments

into sieved and severed stories:
unwilling revelations
unburied with a sidelong brushstroke.

Words descend from aching place,
staining paper with the trails
of unvarnished truth.

Then these homes, where what is
within goes without, all the
pronouned pieces displaced

by the breaking: marble shatters
too, you simply missed the lines
marking the coming separation.

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