She tortures the stem of her glass,
Her anxiety spills over the rim.
The stain spreads like rumour
Darkening the space in between.
She has bitten hard on her lip,
Driven nails through her palms.
She has run up flags of distress
She has surrendered her charms.
The conversation rushes her ears,
A sea of voices without words.
She is pinned against the iron-grey sky
To suffer the mocking of birds.
She watches him carefully take
An aerial survey of her wounds.
He completes a nervous wide circle
And leaves her finally marooned.
Her hand crawls past the decanter
And clamps a manacle on his wrist.
A circle of thumb and forefinger
Against the hard rock of his fist.
There is an embarrassment of silence
As the conversation turns tide.
A panic of wings beating upwards
Escape the inevitable divide.
Copyright: The author writing as Romantic Dominant
A dinner party among friends. The moment she realises what everyone else already knew …
June 4, 2012 at 11:10 am
Whatever they all knew must have been incredibly devastating. Great poetry.
June 4, 2012 at 2:46 pm
It was. I was there.
June 4, 2012 at 7:26 pm
this is so very u, such a unique style…
June 4, 2012 at 10:28 pm
Thank you. If that is good ….
June 5, 2012 at 11:35 am
Really like this one RD
June 5, 2012 at 1:55 pm
You are too kind