ARRvol34 master reduced - Flipbook - Page 76
Til Death Do We Part
Hannah Orlando
68
on the precipice of the coffee table
a green depression glass ashtray edges chipped
trembles from heavy footsteps
shaking the crooked foundation
a reminder of the taste she hates
it leaked into his lungs
stains the curling floral wallpaper
he claimed looked like a cemetery
filled with faded fabric roses
a shatter of glass echoes from rooms over
a wine bottle antique vase or the living room window
she can’t tell won’t move
it doesn’t matter
not like staring at the ashtray
as it rattles on the dingy pine
or waiting for the yellowed walls to peel
while others pool to sweep
glass fragments a welcome
relief from mourning
