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Fragility
Our relationship is like this:
I am both the child and the vase
and you are the mother
who always forgives the baseball
soaring through the house.
You hold all of the valuables
with hourglass palms.
Sometimes you are a vase too
yet I remain clumsy.
You lack the capability
to fix this vase,
so I do not blame you
for hiding out in the top of the china cabinet.
But sometimes I too am a vase
so I will hide out with you,
forever trying to hold myself
and sometimes you
with the baseball's
hourglass palms.
Forgive me when I shatter.
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