A Circle Has No End

Sparkling in an open box Out of the coat pocket of a shaky, kneeling man Next to expensive spaghetti and fine wine It reflected her tears And his electric smile. Matching his own, The glisten bounced over stark white flowers and black satin bows placed on a clean finger for all the world to know. Carrying a small infant, the circle took new life and meaning, changing diapers and feeding pummeled squash. the excitement of a child entangled with exhaustion. His promotions meant less time at home leaving her with more tasks to do. She grew tired but still made up for his failure and kept shining. Juggling three sippy cups, a blankie, and a pacifier, the sparkle remains through the grime of peanut butter and responsibility. His began to fade, gaining more and more rust upon its band until he stopped wearing it all together. But even when pointing to an unfamiliar lipstick stain on his collar hers remained radiant light dancing across the sins. Soon his was left dim on the kitchen counter along with an emptied closet and no apology. Hers continues illuminating their life together and remains in denial on her finger Unfaded.