Loose Lips

Originally published in Full House Literary Magazine

I remember
when my brother
had a boat
in a bottle

and we stood
completely frozen
as it smashed
on the tile

We were frightened by
the fragments
that were littering
the floor

But the look
that passed between us
had a hint
of something more

I think we thought
the bottle ship
was filled with
tiny people

and their tiny lives
were shattered like
the glass
along the marble

For a second we
considered that
there could
be survivors

and our search became
more frantic through
the cuts
on our fingers

As we picked up pieces
gingerly
and placed them on
the shelves

we soon began
to doubt that we
could even save
ourselves

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