There are photos on the mantel,
dreams defined by matching frames,
memories of the hollow years,
naivety, love behind window panes.
There are portraits in the hallways of a kiss and then a smile,
of a bride in white
and a groom's smoky, gray, platonic lawsuit.
There are toothless grins plastered and mounted on translucent wax paper
as the child bears a cocky grin between its nose and chin.
There's a leaky faucet in the empty kitchen
yet to be fixed by hostile inquiries of nagging lips.
There once was an angel atop the tree,
now a lone olive branch caught in the dove's throat.