Each time we were together,
a new piece was added to the
elaborate porcelain vase.
One day, we saw each other no more
and the vase was thrown to the floor.
Pieces scattered in a mushroom cloud
and flew up to mock me in the face.
Silence rained down.
I solemnly took a broom and swept
the pieces into a trash bin,
which I set gently in a seldom-visited corner
of my mind.
Every once-in-a-while,
the trash bin is kicked over
and several pieces skate across
the smooth linoleum.
I pick them up, turning them over in my palm,
examining the memories,
and toss them carelessly back
into the bin.