Sun is streaming in on all sides,

shards of light that quiver upon the just-cleaned 

mirror as if remembering how they flew 

through the air following the impact of a fist.

I forced my hand to transcend the glass

the tiny dings of a hidden bell

the blonde hair fluttering to the floor

the pages and pages of small, cramped

handwriting. All this nonwithstanding, 

shattering on a grassy floor.

Then it was bright and silent, the blood

running down my knuckles, a fading magenta

spot on the horizon. The birds resumed calling

as they had before, and will continue on

all this nonwithstanding.