Things We Never See
The hand
at the elbow
pressed inward
just a little too tight,
guiding between
lanes in the grocery aisles,
during worship,
conversations with friends
The glance
across the table,
casually thrown,
staying long enough,
halting discussions on
the forced abortion,
the unknown number,
the extended wedding date
The meet-ups
always last minute,
forever important,
returned in absence,
obligations met alone—
at the free clinic,
at the courthouse,
at the apartment—lights off
The eyes
in the dark,
looking into nothing,
expecting the same
when the next fix triumphs—
little league tryouts,
busted canvas sneakers,
stomach growling into the night
The harm
in familiar circles,
hiding in shiny smiles,
minding their business,
drapes shading from seeing
the face retreating,
the life not thriving,
patiently waiting to die
almost
