De-constructing by Judy Melchiorre

His breakfast smells like ripe tomatoes
and promises,
pledged in youth and romance,
a starter home, a child or two,
a job with promotions and perks,
naive happiness.

We are older now,
each creak and crack
in the house has a name,
unlike our shadow children.
He works so hard,
pale faced, heavy-footed,
listlessness engraved
into his bones.

Desire distills into an uneasy
companionship,
his hand restive in mine,
his shoulder sharp.
I do not hear the word love,
only silence,
and the foundation settling.


 Judy Melchiorre
Judy is a poet based in Richmond, VA and a member of River City Poets, James River Writers and the Poetry Society of Virginia. She has been published in three anthologies and was a co-editor of River City Poets Anthology, Lingering in the Margins, released in April 2019. She also works as a substitute teacher for moody high schoolers. She is married and lives with her husband, two snuggly dogs and one sassy cat.

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