I can't bear to look at it

Every time a note falls from a book
the page turned to something that was ours

Like the broken cup-my mother's
the photo that disappeared from age

Such carelessness I think

All those precious things
that marked years, or a promise

And then there was your heart,
very careless I think

Much worse than the shattered cup
or the lost image of my kin

Because it can never be thrown away
nor made whole again

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