You broke my vase
and water filled the room
at an alarming pace
all you left behind was gloom.
The room is empty now
but the water holds me in a cage.
I live with tide lines on the walls
of my heart-
I mop, and mop, but it won't stop.
I don't know how
to forget his wreckage.


Years passed before
he showed up at my door,
in his hands a vase like mine
the roses blooming, still with spines;
he placed it gently
on the spot of solitude.
I am scared he'll break it too
or he'll leave without a trace.
But I can't live without love
even if it breaks my vase.