drawing up my breath in its descent
more of a crackle than a crack
as it kisses the floor so permanently
a mumble jumble
inextricable scrumble
of sticky pudding and
slidey ice cream
plumped-up raisins and
bone china
china bone
sharp strong teeth of it
scattered spattered
undeniably shattered
against the cement
and my little-girl ‘oh no!’
a slip in my demeanor
because of a mess
a disappointment
a violent death of dessert.
~Fall of 2001
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