The anger surfaces later.

The right words. Always.

You push me against walls.

Into corners. You never hear the words.

 

Your body is a drum, it speaks of war.

It takes up the entire room.

My body is immoveable around you.

Your heart is a minefield.

 

You speak of peace to keep the war going.

You never grow old.

And when I come back I go back to that house.

That house of tar and feathers.

 

You make me go back.

You take me there.

Your face is so desolate.

Stuck, stagnant, a threat hitting the ceiling.

 

Until it blasts, all the pieces falling down.

And it’s on her head. Her shoulders.

You keep memories alive.

In all our bodies.

320px-Frederic,_Lord_Leighton_-_Perseus_and_Andromeda_-_Google_Art_Project

“Perseus and Andromeda” by Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton (1830-1896)

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