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Sounds
She came home, Spoke not a word.
Rather, communicated her anger in subtle glances from the chipped brim of her cup.
He gazed, watched her every movement with a sort of urgency.
He spoke.
She ignored.
The words, they slipped like dusty fragments falling from a glass pane.
She drew the curtains.
He walked off.
She stayed, still focusing on the battered cup.
She got lost,
In the thoughts;
In the sounds.
The humming,
The drumming,
The distress.
He loved her.
That's what he said.
She loved him.
That's what she thought.
Finally,
Despite the promises and denials,
She realized it was all a myth.
He came back,
His hands full of distress,
His heart full of pain.
She watched him.
He sighed,
And picked at the pieces of lint nesting on his jacket.
She looked at him again, unsure of what his purpose was.
Or why he was here..
The air began to shudder,
She saw every word,
Heard every second of silence.
Oh shame,
Oh darling,
Oh damn.
He stood,
She watched.
He left without saying a word,
Communicating his defeat with deafening silence.
She stayed,
In her chair,
Still focused on the battered cup.
