Breaking Promises

A stirring, deep and unbidden,
thrilling, and terrifying.
Seduction sketches on the horizon,
looming large over my short life.

He belongs to another yet
our paths draw us
toward forbidden fruits that are sweet,
hanging heavy with consequence.

His image, a persistent whisper,
is tucked into the folds of my mind,
like my grandmother's quilt
carefully stowed to hide the fraying edges.

My apartment is silent,
except for the innocent breaths
of my child, unaware of the storm
growing in her mother's heart.

In the stillness, I whisper justifications,
looking down to the place of my betrayal,
crafting excuses to apeeze my conscience.

Marriages, I tell myself,
shatter like bones—
a perfectly natural thing when promises
become as brittle as autumn leaves.

Seasons change, and so must we.
I blush while cupping my hand
over the place where marriages come to die.