You look at me like you're waiting to be broken like a promise, but I don't break promises, they fall apart in my hands and I snap their necks to put them out of their misery, they beg me for it, they lie there broken legged in the grass with tears rolling down their crooked faces, and they look me in the eye and say 'please', they enunciate it so it sounds round and soft and easy, and I bend down and hold them as gently as a baby, and when the first fat round tear falls from my eyes, I break my promises with a sharp wringing gesture. They are dead before it splashes on my hand.