Shatterpoint

I was only dusting, trying to be kind

to the things we bought when we were still a pair.

But the rag caught on a tail, a sudden bind,

and sent the cat spinning through the air.

The ear snapped off—a clean and jagged line

that shows the gritty, unglazed white within.

It looks like bone, or a secret, sharp design

hiding underneath a painted skin.

I found the piece beside the table leg

but left the glue inside the kitchen drawer.

There’s no use trying to fix a broken egg

or keeping what isn't perfect anymore.