innocent

I broke your most precious vase

After painstakingly mending all the cracks

Shattered it in fact

You will not ever mend it again you said

You won’t even try

I broke it so carefully

Hesitantly

Yet I could only crash it into the cobbles

It was cutting my hands

Our tears mixed as we observed the ceramic dust on the floor

I could not tell you why I had done it

In the quiet hours of the night

I think of the patterns of the cracks

And though my hands have scabbed over

And not even scarred

I am so very sorry