the lady doth protest unheard

even as you speak the truth
each word gentled,
so as not to hurt what already is tender…
each statement wreathed with “That’s the way it is”
each phrase piqued in soft question
“Of do you understand? This is how it must be…”
each emotion huskily swallowed
and gently urging assent…

i let Silence do my talking.

 

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