I hung our picture on the wall.
The pair of us, embossed.
Forever grinning from ear to ear like
The two that time forgot.

It rested there; outlined in paint
From my house; ceremonial and
Functionless. Colored squares
Purely for show-and-tell.

The frame was made of oak;
Strong and familiar.
Surrounding everything we knew
But all at once broke;

Leaving the glass in sharp angles
On the kitchen tile.
Watch the glossy paper scratch
And suddenly, the photo-finish isn't perfect.