April 22, 2011
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The mended coffee mug
My mother is sipping from
was the reason she
taught me about love.

I was running through the house--
Mom always said not to--and I found out why.
My arms flung wide as a river,
I hit the porcelain cup, and it flew
across the floor, breaking into a countless amount of pieces.

She heard two noises--crash and sobbing.
Down the stairs, she saw my mistake
and saw me. I trembled, whimpering. She pursed her lips.
Then she smiled.

"You don't hate me?" Soft hands
around me. "Of course not. It was an accident. Nothing
would stop me from loving you."
"Even if I broke all the cups?"
"Even then, baby. Even then."

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