The love we share knows no limits, it stretches as far as the eye can see. And the lies we tell are religious--we believe them just to believe.
When the roses fell from your fingers, you gripped your cigarette between your teeth, you dropped down to your knees and broke that week's long silence. You begged me for forgiveness. You must have forgotten who I am. The car was still running in the driveway, yearning to be driven by other men. The moon was rising above the river while the sun fell on the west. I pictured chrysanthemums out in the garden, you planting them in your Sunday best.
So take all the books from the bookshelves, bring the furniture out to the street. Empty the hallway closet and gather up the photos like so many falling leaves. We'll raid the liquor cabinet, looking to fuel the heat. Pour the vodka out on the carpet. Set fire to our surviving dreams.