In the back right corner
three rooms removed from the main exhibit
idles a porcelain vessel
cracked shell of a masterpiece
with just a bit more empty space
It sits in waiting
reminiscent of the admiration it once knew
eyes
tender eyes familial eyes devout eyes
it has not been touched in years
purpose- a centuries old secret
it finds companionship in the hum of dim lights
low vibrational
but at least present
hummmm hummmmm hummmmmm
hummmm the only separation from silence
and unbeing
a murmur compared to its birthright
the shriek calls of native tongue
the connected boom of beating drum
the dust
dust kicked up from feet so alive
This vessel once had a name
long since lost
to the progress of time
the dust that now showers it
is too clean
the eyes too critical
or dead
feet shuffle by unmoved
Its belly has not been filled since _
and it is only in filling
that emptying is made sacred
encased in rigid glass
in the far back right corner
three rooms removed from the main exhibit
yawns a porcelain vessel
And all its energy is calling for an exhale
it does not want
a clear glass barrier of defense
it wants for someone to reach out
and hold it
it wants for someone to remember its name
and shout it into the void
it wants to s h a t t e r
and release
