Blockage

She gazed at him, catching glimpses of renegade tenderness
That seeped through his habitual bland-faced pleasantness
Like rays of sunshine through blinds
Seriously and sincerely, he spoke to her about nothing
Politics and work issues (just more politics) and the routine of his day
She tossed him soft little questions that he could easily swallow and
regurgitate answers from
Knowing that if she attempted to dish out meatier inquiries
The answers would stay purposefully lodged in his throat
He would choke on them before he let them out
So, silky, sharp silence would be the answer
There was no defense against that silence,
His weapon of choice that wielded its own justification
What word, or combination of words, were a match against such cold steel?
So she swallowed heavy language and thoughts and feelings
Swallowed them whole
Choked them down
And held all of the syrupy and salty confidences she wanted to share,and her desire for reciprocity, deep in her intestines
Constipation of the soul…
She learned to be satisfied with little in defense
His absence even when he was there
Carefully maintained distance
So as not to be devoured by her need, or his own
His willful passivity
And disinterested frigidity
Until
Her bloated belly began to look like a beginning
The size and shape and weight of it waiting to burst forth
Like the birth of something beautiful
But when the time came,
In a frightening rush only a plentiful pile of shit topped with bitter bile was the result...© All Textual Rights Reserved by Kristiana Bennett