ballet of the brokenboned

hear a tinkering sound of something
breaking as hummingbirds
fly to the sun and time regresses, glues those
desolate pieces of porcelain together again;
almost like a dream but it really isn't

the figures come to life in a blooming cycle and they
pirouette to the melodic echoes of hummingbirds calling
out to them, saying,
"it's okay to break a little once in a while."
solemn smiles plastered on their ivory faces
never seem to rub off and maybe,

they realise how fragile they really are,
and that they're okay with it.