Silent Supper

Nov. 2015

Glasses clink, cutlery scrapes the bottom of the plate. 
Chit chat hums around them through a breeze from the window
but they eat as though alone. 
Not once making eye contact — in constant avoidance. 
It has too long been that the relationship formed in silence had now consumed them. 
Fain would she begin to dream of a “them” and a life they didn't have. 
To think differently of the situation. 
Imagine it was all as it should be and finally tear down the wall she had so precisely built brick by brick. 
Caging herself away from all the hurt and pain.

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