I stretch my pinky below
the thick base of my glass, as
so much has slipped through
my fingers and shattered
on the floor. The cool weight
against the knuckles,
against the pink tight flesh,
braced and reassuring,
is enough to coax
another grip, as so much
has slipped from my grasp
and shattered on the floor.
Image: Marika Vinkmann on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 