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