We converse in actions,
words inaccessible –
have not been schooled
in dialogues for two.
His clutter spreads,
pronounce’s a kingly
presence, commands
attention, oppresses.
I clean with insistence,
shuffle papers, wipe up
crumbs, assert my right
to co-exist, belittle him.
Once we studied dance;
he learning to lead, I
to follow signals – the art
is lost on us now, our steps
more interference, blocking
an inconvenience, not
a strategy, we are rhythmless
avoidance more tolerable
than the effort it takes to tango.
How did language fail us?
experts now at skirting
delicate issues, retreat before
we speak, pray time will serve
absolve the problem, but only
distance grows in silent cracks
and we converse in actions.
(Image: source unknown)
A beautiful depiction of a sad waltz. I always love the parts about cleaning in any marital discussion haha. The Pledge battle!
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Opposites do attract as they say, lol.
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