Flutes of liquid bubbling froth, touch and join
for infinite days.
I love you, they say as
glass touches glass.
Framed photographs hang
in mirrored hallways, tucked
amidst roses and diamonds.
I like you, they say as
eyes reach for solace.
Words break as glass
when thrown against mantle
splinters, shiny pieces on brick.
I hate you, they say as
fists find homes in dust.
Flutes of liquid bubbling
froth, touch and join -
her parent’s first joy.
We love you, they say
as glass touches glass.
No comments:
Post a Comment