Mala & Tea Cup (Poem)

I sit with my mala wrapped around my wrist.

In another room, I drink my tea. There I drop my tea cup.

As I count the beads, this accident causes my heart to shatter.

The tea cup remains whole, and I inhale the fragrance and sip.

The mala falls through the air. I catch it and resume my cadence.

Each breath repairs my heart. I taste the flavor of the tea and smile.

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