I took the sacred quartz crystals you left behind.
I took them to the basement.

I broke them many times with a hammer.  
I put the shards in a flower pot 
for holy drainage of my philodendron.  

I put the powder
in my salt shaker and had my eggs with quartz this AM.
My teeth hurt a little but I am, I think, fine.  
Fine as the power that leached out upon my delivering the first blow.  

I put the power into the words I used to describe
this little vandalism.  

I put the power into
this broken angel of a poem.  

It still
isn’t getting up from where it lies.  It still wishes
for its former belly,
full of refracted light.