A fine china bowl, intricate in the detail of its design, sturdy in the functionality it was designed for, delicate to the touch. No dishwasher or microwave here, there are no shortcuts to its use and care. Is it the cost, or the beauty that prompts one to display it proudly instead of storing it in the cupboard?
In anger, thrown against the wall, it will shatter. Immediately grabbing for the pieces, sorrow fills the soul as every piece is collected. Glue and time will piece it back together; turning precisely hides the missing chip or two that have disappeared into the ether.
It is once again a beautiful display piece, but no longer functional. It doesn’t hold water; the cracks are there below the surface, tugging at the finger as it is caressed.
It is but a shadow of what it once was.
Your love…it will never be the same.