So you yell and scream when you see it in pieces on the floor
And you go through the mourning motions
Histrionics and drama you didn’t feel at the funeral
Chipping pieces off the daughter in front of you
The way your mother broke pieces off you
Over a dish that was her mother
To this chipped daughter?
And will it be big enough to both
Patch the hole you’re leaving
And also withstand a future clumsy-stupid-how could you touch?