glass

i start making my way to bed, intending to lay under the moon's reflection. i notice her face on the broken glass that i have yet to pick up. it has been laying there against the hardwood floor as i strategically tip toe my way onto bed. there must be over a hundred tiny, broken pieces all spread out, all waiting to prick my skin sooner than later. i notice how they shine, as if the moon alone is making them brighter to catch my attention.

i see them, dammit.

still, i  leave them there for yet another sleepless night.