unspoken
It does not need to be said.
It builds up in the air between us
while we lie there unmoving;
it is thick and garish
custard with ants in it
ants barely alive
yet still in continuous and intricate motion.
It trickles down my neck a little
while my ear is tightly fastened to the phone;
and when I move it so forcefully
3 1/2 cups of brown rice fall on the carpet.
It does not need to be said.
The words we say are so often putridĀ
yet, the light always shines brightest
through the bathroom window.
12
5
2