tears and diamonds

her tears gleamed

when her diamond ring

disappeared down

the garbage disposal.

a crystal streak

slid down her cheek

as she recalled

her wedding,

when her sweet groom

had slipped it on her finger.

now it's been eight days

since they last spoke,

the thin comfort

of his bad jokes broken

when the hospital

was bombed.

she understood his position,

that as a pediatric physician,

he felt duty bound to help

the children whelped

by the dogs of war.

or so she told

the empty pillow

on his side of the bed.

when the groan

of the disposal faded away,

she wormed a soapy hand

into it's bowels,

squirmed naked fingers

in the lemon rinds

and carrot peels

feeling for the ring.

felt the slender circle

and gasped when she

fished the sparkling emblem

from the muck,

somehow unbitten

by the teeth of the machine.

her phone was chiming

in the pocket of the apron

where it rested warm and close

next to her breast. hello?

no. not at all, dear,

i was just doing the dishes.