A poem by
I’d like to let it fall, see it plunging, see it smashing
shattering all over the white floor tiles
scattered all around in lumpish fragments
or minute bits which could easily hide
tiny tiny bits that I could never recover
and never glue back together.
It deserves this! I’d like to hear it crashing
with a harsh and deafening shriek
that will wander across the air
lost in the limbo of time
vanishing into the surroundings
revealing the fragility lying deep inside.
I cradle it completely with both my hands
within its structure it must be wondering
it believes itself to be protected
and inaccessible to the outside world
but my hold slackens, I can feel it
slightly slipping out of my hands.
Should I stop it now?
Who am I to intervene?
Who will fathom this collapse?
For I am fearful of the repercussions
the explanations, the blame and reproach,
the stigmatizing look of the gravity oblivious.
I will draw attention to myself. Should I risk it?
For now I have put the teacup where it belonged. TMM