defiance.
Apology without regret.
The desire to challenge,
still. And, obvious through
a red haze of my own,
anger.
Autumn
KRISTINA IS OUT OF STEAM
I can’t help but feel sorry
for her. She is a bird,
too broken to fly.
I look
across the granite width
of table, beyond crystal
glassware and cloth napkins.
Notice the way Trey smiles
at her,
as if telling her she has said
exactly the right thing. But
Hunter is not swayed. Summer,
too, seems unconvinced.
And I
find
in Kristina’s refusal to meet
anyone’s eyes, in her knuckles
that tap without rhythm,
fear.
And in the way she hugs
her secrets close, like I must
continue to hold on to mine