THE GLASS SHOP by Cao Shu

THE GLASS SHOP

by Cao Shu

You let glass pick up the light,

it has graced you with a surface.

A flattened body, bleeding from the corner of the mouth,

a fallen glass, chipped, shining.

You worked here in his shop for 10 years,

and in this foreign city,

he also moved from a windowless place

to a high-rise with floor-to-ceiling glass.

Each time I pass Nanxin East Road,

I can see the fourth-floor window from far away,

peach and clouds reflected on the shimmering glass,

but when he fought with his sobbing widow,

it was glass crashing, shattering into pieces of daggers.