She holds her tongue for a gray man
with a smoking jacket and whispered I love you’s.
She holds her tongue for crumbs on countertops,
hairs on bathroom sinks, unwashed hands
and mornings with unbrushed teeth.
She holds on for passionate kisses and long embraces
that heat up to a thousand degrees under the sheets.
She presses on for those hard fought moments.
She gasps for air but lingering smoke blocks her airwaves,
burning a hole in her lungs. She wishes it were only a pebble
in her step along a winding path as she treads lightly.
With every breath, every painful breath, she continues to
battle the urge to run from it all. Has she really been
misguided to a watering hole filled with polluted waters,
only to be lulled by the promise of the sweetest refuge?
She looks down and decides it’s time to change her shoes.