De-Constructing a Beautiful Thing

he comes home to find dinner waiting a greedy plate of misery set before her strawberries in a smile on his she spears a heart-shaped relic lifts it as an offering he has no appetite for single-serving happiness but he's always loved to watch her fingers looks up to see a face he's never kissed falls into the hollows of her cheeks cradling ice-eyed brothers holding hands from the furrow on her forehead plays her sister on the only swing she leans in and asks about his thoughts he once thought it was interest but now he knows softly slipping breath would topple her her stomach growing bigger every day her fitful sleep more frantic whispers in his ear staring at the ceiling through his tears "it's empty... it's empty..." days pass and she is staggering her hand feeling for pills on the nightstand coming to rest on his pity she cannot bear his pity she must continue his work is getting sloppy but there is only concern on his rival's faces he cannot bear their pity he must continue they are in sticky pieces hidden a swinging briefcase an apron pocket a wrinkled navy tie the smell of burning eggs a corporate memo "it's empty..." he comes home to find dinner waiting she looks up and five bloody fingers wave hello.this is ultra rough so rip it open and lead the way to a new and better me! Written October 11th, 2001 © on Oct 11 2001 02:53 PM PST   0 • 13