Did it really matter after all?
After the last
word fell
to the floor—
an egg carelessly
dropped. Was there nothing
more to say?
Walking on broken words,
eggs
plummeting
down
from your mouth
to my hands,
that I then let fall.
The crack came so easily—
it was there all along.
And when you heard the first
split, the first smack, the first crash,
you didn’t pause,
not once.
You let fall
another and another and another
The carton,
forced empty—
the shells
will be cleaned,
the words
neatly sidestepped
and put in the trash
with the rest of the day’s waste.