I remember I was holding a cup

And it broke

I was holding a pretty wine glass

And I dropped it

It was an accident

Until I got another one

And while standing on the fake marble

Counter flung it to the floor

And a third and fourth came before

The fifth

And something about the way the clear

Glass was obliterated by the opaque floor

Had me transfixed

There was one more left because there

Was only six in a set

And I remember dangling it over the

Counter with a smirk on my lips

Thinking, “So little cup, what next?”