Thursday, February 25, 2010

Still I Stay

The dark circle showing nights 
of not knowing
exactly why things
come about
the way they do

I wonder who it is I married

I wonder if he'll notice
I didn't greet
his staggering steps 
this time

I watch
shaking hand pour another
tender feelings I once felt
spill to the floor
with the rhythm
of overflowing foam

I cloak myself
in the darkness
of the dead-end stairway

I step out to ask, "Why?"
Only to encounter
eyes
red
like the soda and wine
he's now drinking

His anger rises with the bubbles
exploding words
Whore. . .bitch, 
you cold-hearted. . .
he slurs

Does he mean it?
He's drunk, he can't know
A flicker of mean intelligence
emerges
pin-point pupils

He knows.

2 comments:

  1. This is... pretty good.

    One suggestion: lose "mean" in the line, "A flicker of mean intelligence." Doesn't quite fit. Perhaps a different word?

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  2. Wow! This is my favorite among the posts you have written. I recognize the feelings and the question. Does he know? I also recognize discovering the answer you feared and hid from yourself. He knows.

    "The dark circle showing nights
    of not knowing
    exactly why things
    come about
    the way they do

    I wonder who it is I married..."

    Me too!

    ReplyDelete