She never speaks but hears 
everything; the glistening of glass
on a midnight window pane, 
the click of mad doubt on a dead
phone line
the surety of anger in the past,
and, her eyes closed, she waits
for the tell-tale hourglass pulse
of certainty.

But when I stayed the pendulum 
with flesh and affection
she heard the future like a bull
rushing toward us 
and the sound
was enough to cease 
infinity.

She loved you till she hated
everything about you: needs unending,
moods malformed, disfigured and
the mortification of chemicals
bleating loudly
as if poached, the touch
unfinished, the life you promised
a shadow long-expected in the grime
of fatal hope.

You tell yourself not to give up,
that alignments are our masters
and planets have karma of their own,
but that song has been sung bloody
and numb is the way to go,
the chemical entity
unleashed with spring in its jaws.
as she lays her head down,
on his chest to listen
to the new beat of hope,
the unhollered chorus of forever
melodious behind his skin, this
time she knows its different.

He will make her happy.

She hears it, she hears it
a heart safe with silence.