he returned to
the pawn shop
five days in a row

he never spoke
just stood
at the counter
staring down
at the rings

the silence
stabbed
at his ache

on the sixth day
he simply pointed
at the silver band
with a demure
diamond chip
and six feet of rope
coiled above the door
to the tiny room
in the back

the ring
he left
in an unmarked envelope
on her porch

the rope
was a final means
to an ending
he had been
scribbling
since he first
learned to write