Polaroid smile, toxic to most.
A single devious glance, and his heart shattered like the glass it was clearly made of.
And as his hope dissolved into bitter melancholy, bleached tears faded his Cheshire grin with each potent drop.
Dressed in his Sunday best, he raise a glass to this bitter earth before swallowing a mouthful of her despondency and waiting for a slumber he never knew.
There was nothing to welcome him on the other side, except obsidian nothingness.
All that was left of him was a polaroid smile, ringed with stale coffee, swept under her rug. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.