Shards beneath a canopy, cloth white And hardened leather soles like boots, kick. The trembling figures of loved ones heave, like brick Into the storefront windows of the night. Our extremes are measured in fragmented glass, From eyes and hands grown fierce and tongues ground sharp. Bottles hurtle into the nooks and cracks, And crash into the corners of the dark. She wears her German boots and bridal gown, And when the goblet breaks beneath her feet Is it sticks or bats, or hearts that beat Refracted in the crystal on the ground Shattered on the floor to rise again Are lovers in the eyes of gods and men.