The figurine

The glass figurine

sits immutable

and protected

in the pristine display case,

glinting in the light

and occasionally admired;

till the case is opened

and the figurine,

whose figure has

always been perfect,

is taken and smashed relentlessly

on the cold stone floor,

and broken into

sharp shiny shards,

laced with blood,

that can’t be

put back together again.