A mother broke in 1969
not a fall off the shelf
explode across the linoleum
atom splitting
shatter
Slowly
like the beach carried to sea
grain by grain
or a hairline crack
turned against the wall
hustled to a corner
into a chair
under a blanket
until no more hiding
the pieces falling off
to form a chalk outline
a shadow silhouette
Yesterdays snaked her ankles
into it’s hungry undertow
leaving the shaking bits
the fisted glances
fading to flatline
particles
folding into herself
Rummaging her jewelry box
fingering each pasted jewel
like stars
the 100 billion stars
in the 100 billion galaxies
leaving we, the broken binary
pulling away from each other
without a common mass
Writing 