#ESCAPRIL Day 11 — Not in Your Perspective
it seems tension laid its bed
along the column of her spine
giving birth to a treasure
of fresh worries, each settling
snugly along a trail of distress
while he works to resolve her anxieties,
unravelling tightly wound knots,
she screams to him wordlessly
about how she’s had enough
her silence speaking louder
than her sighs, like soughs
alas, nature imitates art
at which point do burdens
become braver to bear?
is a bluff, well protected,
reward enough? why
happiness is simple
to self profess, with
one false smile and
two bright eyes joined by
a third, most importantly,
well-delivered lie
i’m fine may sustain
on the audible plane,
because words restrain
truths the body makes plain
much left to be said,
her gratitude extends
no further than her eyes,
as she returns his charged
favor in the form of regret,
by way of immediate relapse,
as an unforgiving requite
