A **** remark
extinguished her, there was
this sunlit absence,

his fingers scuffled
over the drawing board,
its white background

sent a reflection of brilliance
against her like a shield,
to where she stood

still not holding the candle
to him, to his wits,
his superior eloquence,

as she was shrinking
in silence, a wilted
violet losing its scent .

That’s when he spoke again,
very slowly and in a low tone
nearly inaudible

while his pen made a scraping noise
emulating the shape of her eyes,
and the gentle curve of her lip.

His words fell like ink blobs
onto her face and gradually dissolved
blotting out its contours.