they gathered their heaps of feelings
one on top of the other,
to build high piles of dishes
by the sink of life.
Some were sparkling, some dirty,
some cracked,
some were washed up,
some forgotten,
some glued up, some just bad.
Removing just one
any meaning would topple:
their balance in pieces
to be cleared and dusted
with hurtful slivers
of their jarred hearts.
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