it is sitting on the counter
sweating down its sides
my fingers curl around it
leaving prints on the glass
meeting my parted lips
now the glass is half empty
and my breath fogs up the sides
and I fear I will see
my own reflection
if I look too close
so my hands let go
now the glass is empty
shattered
I am surrounded by
thousands of fragments
and in each one there
is a reflection of me
I watch droplets of water
spill over the counter top
and form a puddle on the ground
I pick up the pieces
that slice the tips of my fingers
I'm sorry for destroying my reflection.
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