By the way

What we break—suddenly, abruptly—we feel regret, guilt, a need to fix.

A vase.

A cup.

A toy.

Only, it is not them we want fixed, but

the guilt we want go away. To accept that something

no longer exists because of us

is too much to bear.

But what we neglect—

let wither and die we feel no shame. Nature and time

were the murderers. Nothing we can do for they died

not by our hands, but

by the way.

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