The Chocolate Jar

Glazed ceramic, spun with hands with tender finger prints imbed somewhere from the hills of Spain given to us when we wed Signed in marker on the bottom brushed in dust and gold holds our trinkets of disaster crystal cracked and cold There's that time we strung each other ice glass beads on threaded wind and that time we threw one another bouncing back and forth again What about when our eyes were blinded wandering around in the dark for days or all the grease we drenched on wheels to clog up the cogs in a thousand ways More to be said, just not worth saying Held in the chocolate jar and sealed Somewhere in Spain there's a lady still spinning these jars in ceramic, dynamic, congealed Ours we will smash in the fire one day freeing the bruises in smoke to the sky We will laugh silly and send our disasters spiraling upward, toward the heavens they'll fly...