prosody

rare corinthian leather, solid-silver studs, a hand-crafted
jeweler's buckle, inlaid pearl, a holster, custom-made to
fit around the waist, to hold a 1902 cabinet maker's hammer
with no claws, worn across the finest black, black tie
and diamonds, heels, roses, vintage red, all held above
the head and poised, dead vessels christened just before
their hammered smash, a potter's broken pots, shards that
spread like sighs, silence and debris in new configurations,
like reading tea leaves, then another page to turn within
a never-ending book of forms