The Pitcher
How do you reason with the pitcher
Sitting there, waiting next to the glass
and nothing gets poured
Giving up when things are uncertain
Hostility is the salt on the edge
You see it but avert your gaze
Resilience and willpower
Until you realize
The illusionary substance
doesn't exist in pitchers
with fingers slipping away
No manifested evidence for love
Responsibility and promises shatter
before the glass hits the floor
I removed myself from that table
fell away but not before
I picked up the shattered tears
Left the pitcher dead on black tablecloth
consuming, consumed, gone.