Into the Pause

Not a flicker of iridescent tinge

Nor delicate prance on glary petal

Not even a thin proboscis sliding into flower’s trumpet

But the poise of wings between nearly closed and shifting apart

The lingering slurp of flower’s honeyed scent

Butterfly shadow casts stain upon the bud

Pledge of nectar lunch and tangle of insect sex

This is the moment

The camera catches and flaunts to

The raving audience

Disciples

 

Not the blare of the indifferent phone

Nor the hitch in your voice greeting a remote guest

Not even your left hand clenched over the mouthpiece

But the grunts of accord between rasped whispers

The brazen intimacy of your contract that cancels the one we wrote

Hollow of estrangement as I puzzle the errors, the vacant margins

That twisted us apart and you into a stranger’s embrace

This is the rebus:

While I gather the threshed chaff of our marriage

The doldrums of the ended call

Secrets

 

Not the words on your scaled lips,

Nor the wave of your hand as you turn to face me,

Not even the slump of your hip braced against the wall,

But the pause between those words,

The hesitation of what to consider and what to exchange,

The price of the bargain and the juggling of thoughts,

What will be revealed and even more, what remains eclipsed,

This is the signal:

The vacant sound of words not said.

You gamble all stakes,

Rook

 

Quiet I can bear, the silence of trees soughing in woods,

Of water shushing against the glass dust of distant sands,

Feathers that hush on their slow drift from soaring birds

To land with muted drop on sodden earth.

The strum of your mind as you motion me to hear you,

To value your story, embellished by impassioned account,

False speech crafted in the moment.

This is the detour:

A life beyond our marriage troth,

And I, the butterfly,

Betrayed

 

Heart image courtesy Pixabay.com public images