Lost Love

She sits and reads, or chatters on the phone voice lilting, dancing, chirping like a bird, he sits in the same room with her, alone and stares at her, his thoughts all go unheard. He vowed to sacrifice, the day they wed, have and to hold for better or for worse, beguiling promises that he was fed curdled like sour milk into a curse. Silence between them like a washing line, passion dried in the wind then put away, to all around them everything is fine soiled love can be hung out another day. When nothing is the bond, then nothing ties hollow relationships, false smiles and lies (not for contest, it's a rough draft I finally got round to finishing)