Ritual


Listless the shirt hangs on the bedpost exhausted from the lies
of the night before. The toothbrush hangs its bristles over the edge
of the sink in shame,while glasses chatter quietly with footsteps
down the hall. The smell of deceit lingers on the cell phone;
the garbage disposal refuses to comply wanting to be
no part of the enigma. With every moment, the coffee drips slower,
a reminder of the gradual massacre that has taken place for years.
Only the bullet understood the dissociated nuptial
between the house and garden.

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